Lions in the Country of Dragons
by targaryenemperor
Summary: We all know Gerion Lannister left for Valyria to reclaim the ancestral sword of his house, Brightroar. However, what if Tyrion accompanied him into this journey? How will sailing to that accursed land will change the two lions? Will they keep their humanity and kindness? I do not own ASOIAF. Rated M for being a story in the ASOIAF universe. I await reviews :)
1. The Lions' Den

"You know, when I was your age, I had this dream. I wore the best armor in the known world, made entirely out of gold and in my hand, our ancestral sword, Brightroar. Then, I realized what my calling in life will be: to recover it. To bring it back home, here, where it belongs!"

Gerion Lannister, the youngest brother of Lord Tywin, the Warden of the West stood on a chair with his young bastard daughter, Joy Hill, in his arms and his nephew Tyrion on another chair, near him. Gerion was Tyrion's favorite uncle, without any shadow of a doubt. It must not be mistaken, is not like he didn't like his other uncles, Kevan and Tygett, but with Gerion he always had a special relationship. Kevan was always in the shadow of Tywin and while he had always been kind with Tyrion, he could never show it in front of his older brother. Tygett was a warrior at heart. He never judged nor insulted Tyrion but in his soul was only anger and jealousy which darkened his otherwise good heart. However, Gerion was always there for Tyrion, lifting his spirit and enabling him to create his own path in the world by learning. He would always defend his nephew from his brother's hatred, no matter what. As for his aunt, Genna, Tyrion has only respect for her, not only for loving him but for managing to obtain the maximum from the unhappy life she has alongside her husband, Emmon Frey.

"And how do you propose to do it? It's not like you possess the same fleet Tommen Lannister had when he disappeared with the sword. And who in his right mind will sail to Valyria?"

"So, you think I can't do it?"

"No, I think you can do it. But father would never let you go to such a journey. And who will sail with you to Valyria?"

Gerion caressed her daughter's cheek. Her blond hair, exactly like his, was so beautiful in the light of the morning. Four years ago, a commoner named Briony came to Casterly Rock to serve as a washerwoman. The moment he saw her, with her black hair and blue eyes and her innocent smile, he knew he wanted her more than anything else in the world. Gerion seduced her, lying to her that he will marry her and their children will be lords and ladies and the envy of the Seven Kingdoms. She fell for his enticing words and one night, after he gave his word that he will marry her, Gerion also gave her his seed which bore fruit and nine months later, a daughter was born. He named her Joy, as her birth was his moment of greatest joy, while also acknowledging her as his bastard daughter. Briony was shocked that Gerion wouldn't marry her. _You kept me as your whore, as your plaything, as your toy, to fulfill your sinful needs. What about me? What about my soul? What about my daughter?_ Her words ringed in his ears even now, years after she committed suicide by hanging herself, out of grief. Gerion realized that she loved him sincerely and that she really wanted to spend her life alongside him. But the past is the past. The present matters, and the future.

"Don't worry, nephew. Even if I have to go with ironborn sailors over there, I will go, no matter what!"

That evening, at dinner, Tywin spoke in his pretentious voice:

"Gerion, how old are you?"

"Thirty-six, but you should have known. Aren't you Lord Tywin, the one who knows everything?"

"Your pathetic sarcasm will not work. I'm asking you because I want you to marry!"

Tyrion giggled, under his father's cold eyes while Gerion outright started to laugh:

"And who do you propose I should marry? I warn you: my standards are pretty high!"

"Let me remind you that you lived with a whore right here, in my castle and the proof is right over there. So there are your standards: washerwomen, common filth, whores!"

He pointed towards Joy who started to cry, being afraid of her uncle's outburst:

"You will marry Lord Lefford's daughter in a fortnight. You will send Joy to be fostered in Lannisport because I don't want your new wife to feel… insulted by her presence. You will have sons and daughters named Lannister!"

Gerion was infuriated. He rose from his chair and after musing for a bit, he uttered only two words:

"Fuck you!"

Everybody at the table was in shock. Kevan's face was white while his wife, Dorna, almost fainted. She was a pious woman, unaccustomed with this kind of language. Tyrion however would have laughed but seeing his father's livid face, he preferred not to.

"What did you say to me?"

"Fuck you! This is what I said. Or you prefer to suck my cock? Your choice!"

"Gerion… I will let this slide because you are of my blood but next time you will have this kind of an outburst in my presence, I will…"

"Spare me, Tywin. There won't be a next time! I will leave Casterly Rock!"

Everybody gasped.

"Didn't you hear what I said? You will marry Lord Lefford's daughter…"

"No, I will leave for Valyria!"

Tyrion wasn't surprised as his uncle always spoke about leaving to find Brightroar but Tywin wasn't impressed:

"Again with this madness? You will find no sailors to come with you, brother. Your expedition is doomed before it even started."

"Not if I pay them… let's say… 50,000 gold dragons a man. More than enough! For this amount of gold, brother, they will go with me to the Saffron Straits and back."

Kevan spoke, in a soft voice, almost as he was afraid he would bother Tywin if he would speak louder:

"Gery, whoever leaves for Valyria never comes back. Tygett's death was enough, I can't lose another brother again!"

"Someone like you, Kevan, who lived his entire existence as a lapdog will never understand! I am not you, nor I am Tygett. I will bring glory to our House by doing something nobody ever dared to do!"

"Gery, unlike you, I know my lot in life! I am content to be a good husband to my wife and a good brother to Tywin, who is the Lord of Casterly Rock and the Warden of the West."

"Because you never dared to think otherwise. Because you never dared to think! I am not you, brother, and clearly I am not Tywin's puppet. I will never cast away my daughter just because of her birth, like other are doing!"

Gerion's words were like knives for Tywin, who himself hated his son, Tyrion, for having being born the way he was born and even more so, by causing Joanna's death.

"If you decide to leave, Gerion, I will not impede you. But you will pay your men from your own coin. And you are forbidden to ever return to Casterly Rock without the sword, if you are so obsessed to find it. When do you want to leave?"

"In a week!"

Tyrion was unhappy. Without his uncle Gerion, nobody would protect him from Tywin's wrath.

"Fine."

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Gerion was in his room, packing his belongings and also, polishing his suit of armor with his daughter, Joy.

"I am sorry I have to leave you, kitten, but I need to find my place in this world, a better place for you and me, far from Tywin's tyranny. I swear I will return and not only that, but I will bring you a dragon egg, if I would find one. How would you name your dragon?"

"Kitt'n"

"Very scary, indeed! The dragon Kitten!"

He then tickled Joy, who started to laugh. Tyrion knocked on the door:

"Come in!"

The imp entered his uncle's room and after kissing Joy on the cheek, he addressed Gerion with pleading eyes:

"Uncle, take me with you to Valyria!"

"I don't know… I would take you with me, of course, but I don't think Tywin will let you."

"Fuck him, I want to leave with you. While this journey is a chance for you to come back here a hero, is also a chance for me to know the world. Besides, here I would be the whip boy of Tywin Lannister's anger."

"I know, nephew. But what we could possibly do about it?"

"Well, you know aunt Genna will visit Casterly Rock in a few days with Emmon and their sons. Let's make her convince him to let me go with you!"

Genna Lannister had always a soft spot in her heart for Tyrion. She admired his intellect and his desire to rise above his station, but also his kind heart, despite his status as a dwarf and the black lion of the family.

"Heh… You plan on manipulate my sister to make Tywin accept… You will do well in this game we play, child, very well."


	2. Full House

It was a long road but finally, Genna Lannister and her husband, Emmon Frey, arrived to Casterly Rock. That year, she travelled extensively between the Rock and the Twins, as Walder Frey was ill, having caught a pox from a whore. While Emmon was the second son of Lord Frey, his ambitious wife enabled him to try and vie for the position of Lord of the Crossing in the eventuality of his father's death. For this, they moved to the Riverlands castle and she had Emmon play the role of devoted son, so that his brother Stevron's status decrease in Walder's eyes. The Twins was a viper's nest, with brothers betraying brothers, bastards vying for recognition and sisters sabotaging sisters. The game! Genna was already a skilled player but her time at the Twins enhanced her abilities tremendously.

She, Emmon and their four sons entered the great hall. There, Tywin, Kevan, his wife Dorna Swyft, Gerion and Tyrion awaited her. A huge woman with blond hair and an angry expression on her face, wearing a red dress embroidered with a golden lion and a grey cloak with a blue bridge over it, Lady Genna hugged her brothers, her sister-in-law and her nephew:

"Finally, I am home! So tired of travelling!"

"Rest, sister. Let's have dinner together!"

At the dinner, Genna started to tell about her time at the Twins in her ironic manner:

"So, Emm here washed that father of his daily! In my entire life I never saw a man shitting so much! So imagine my poor husband having to deal with that every day for almost a year!"

Emmon Frey was clearly insulted but he smiled diplomatically:

"Well, he is my father. He must have a responsible son with him in his time of need."

"Indeed, because Lord Walder has so few sons…"

Gerion's jape was met with laughter from Genna and Tyrion while Tywin stood serious.

"Well, Lord Walder's health issues are saddening, to be sure, but I believe that at dinner, we should discuss other things."

"Indeed, my lord!"

Dorna Swyft was glad that the discussion about shit was over. She was happy at Casterly Rock with her husband and children, but she never was comfortable in the presence of Gerion or Genna.

"Fine, fine! After we eat, I brought gifts for you!"

Knowing his aunt, the gifts were probably strange and unconventional, bordering on disgusting sometimes. Tyrion couldn't wait for them.

"So, I heard that you want to leave for Valyria, Gerion?"

"Yes. I want to recover Brightroar."

"Well, I wish you all the luck in the world, brother! See, Emm, this is courage! When will you do something like this?"

"My love, House Frey doesn't possess a Valyrian steel sword so the need for such an expedition is quite null."

"Of course House Frey hasn't a Valyrian sword, because you are worthless. Sometimes, I curse my father for tying us together."

"Honey, I know that you are tired and quite upset, but there is no need for us to argue, especially in front of the children and your brothers."

The others, except Tywin and Dorna laughed. Even Kevan giggled a little. Emmon Frey was a nervous wreck but he genuinely cared about his wife, the mother of his children. Well, some people say that she is not the mother of his children but the mother of someone else's children but those people are liars who deserve to die slowly and painfully in the bowels of Casterly Rock's dungeons.

"Now, it's time for gifts!"

Emmon brought several boxes into the great hall. He was scolded by his wife when he wanted to present Tywin with one of them himself:

"Ladies first, Emm!"

"Sorry, my dove!"

Genna gave Tywin a box. He opened it and found a beautiful red doublet with lion models and golden buttons and matching pants.

"Thank you, sister!"

"Here, Gerion."

Gerion's gift was one he needed the most in his following journey. It was as if his sister knew about his intentions. It was a far-eye, with a Myrish lens and a long, red handle.

"Thank you, I really needed this!"

"Make sure you will look only towards the stars not towards Essosi cunts!"

They laughed, well except Tywin and Dorna…

"Of course, I didn't forget my sweet niece, Joy!"

Little Joy was happy after she saw the box containing a beautiful doll with blond hair and blue eyes.

"She looks like you. But of course, you are much prettier. She is so beautiful, Gerion!"

"Thank you, sister. Your sons are good looking too! Especially little Walder!"

The young boy smiled towards his uncle.

"I'm telling you, Gery, I always wanted a daughter, small and pretty just like a doll, like yours!"

"And? You are still young, sister, you and Emmon should get busy!"

"Hah! Emm barely can raise his fork to his mouth to eat. So he lacks the necessary power to give me another child!"

Emmon Frey frowned:

"But, little bird, I gave you four beautiful and strong sons! You can't say I am unskilled in that department."

Tywin decided to change the subject:

"Well, it's your decision if you want another child. And if the gods decide to give you a daughter, I would care very much about my trueborn niece."

"How so, brother? You tell me you will care about Genna's daughter because she is trueborn? So my Joy doesn't deserve love because me and her mother weren't married?"

"I didn't say that, Gerion. Joy is still my niece due to your blood in her veins, Lannister blood. A lion is still a lion, no matter the name. And the fact that I allowed you to raise her here is proof to that."

"How open-minded of you, father. What if the lion is a dwarf? You would care for him too?"

"I am not going to discuss this further. Genna, you said you have more gifts?"

"Yes, what about my gift?"

Tyrion smiled at his aunt, who reciprocated it.

"For you, I have something you will surely enjoy. _Dornish Dreams amidst Northern Storms_ by Derek Martell! A must-read for every young lord. It gives you some insight about what women really need in bed!"

Prince Derek Martell was the thirdborn son of a ruling princess of Dorne. A free spirit and a womanizer, Derek fell in love with a daughter of Lord Ragnar Glover of Deepwood Motte and married her when he was only 17. The next twenty years of marriage were tumultuous as both spouses cheated one on another but in the end, they remained together. A few years after the death of his wife, Prince Derek wrote a poetry book in which he described, in a funny and lecherous manner, his entire marriage with Lady Glover.

Tywin sighed:

"Poetry, how foolish. Instead of giving him books of poetry, you should give him books about proper conduct."

"He behaves quite right, in my opinion. Now, my dear sister, a gift for you too!"

Dorna opened her present, a beautifully crafted tiara with a jewel on top. Gerion and his nephew smirked. The tiara made Dorna look like a rooster. Of course, Kevan Lannister was blind to this, as he was too absorbed with admiring his wife's beauty.

"You look good, Aunt Dorna."

"Thank you, Tyrion!"

"Just good? She looks like the Maid made flesh!"

"Or the Crone…"

Gerion's joke was too much for Kevan who left the dinner with his wife. Genna, Gerion and Tyrion laughed while Emmon and his children maintained their composure. Tywin was angry:

"Again, you ruined a family moment with your japing. You dishonor the dinner table, you dishonor your brother and your good-sister, you dishonor everything we Lannisters stand for!"

"Well, then excuse me, brother, I will leave before you accuse me I dishonored the moon itself."

He took Joy with him and left the dining table.

"You enable him to be rebellious and immature, Genna, like you are doing with Tyrion."

"Gery is a big boy, he knows how to be rebellious and immature without me teaching him that. As for Tyrion, you have no idea what are you talking about, brother!"

"Come again?"

"Out of your three children, none resembles you so much as this one over here, the one you continue to abuse! Just because you can't get over the fact that your wife died giving birth to him, something that can happen to everyone, no matter if that one is a lion or a dragon or even a kraken! Tyrion is your son, not Jaime, he is the son that is exactly as you, intelligent, driven, ambitious!"

Tywin was white as milk. He was so angry that Tyrion was afraid he will hit Genna. Instead, he spoke in a very soft voice:

"Leave!"

All of them left the dining room, leaving only Tywin who pondered, thinking about the cheek his sister had, confronting him like that.

Tyrion was happy, for the first time in a long time. Aunt Genna always was nice to him and defended him from his father. Tyrion appreciated this. After dinner, they walked through the beautiful godswood of Casterly Rock, the Stone Garden, a very relaxing place. There, a statue of House Lannister's founder, the one known as Lann the Clever, diligently guarded the small park. Tyrion loved this place of the Rock, near as much as the library.

"Aunt Genna, I want to ask you a favor."

"Tell me, sweetling!"

"You know Uncle Gerion wants to leave for Valyria in a few days. I want to go with him."

His aunt's face darkened.

"You know what they say about Valyria… The doom still envelopes the cursed city. I don't want anything to happen to you, or to Gerion. If you ask me, this expedition is a fool's errand, but I know I can't convince him to stay. But I will never let you risk your life like this!"

"What life, Aunt? The one I live here at Casterly Rock is not life, amidst people that hate me. And if Gerion leaves, nobody will be here for me. You will leave soon with Emmon and my cousins for the Twins. Kevan and Dorna are good with me but they would never defend me in front of father and you know it. Just look at what happen at the dinner! You stood for me in front of father, and now he will never forgive you!"

"Well, you can't shit in the man's taste, can you? Kevan married that prude because she is like him. As for your father, he would probably wouldn't speak with me for a year, but not forever."

"That's a huge problem, because I needed you to talk him into allowing me to go with Gerion."

"Well, I rather want to talk you out of it but… I don't know, sweetling."

"Please, Aunt, try something."

"Ugh… Those problems here make the last year at the Twins seem like a vacation. Fine, I will try something."

"Thank you!"

"Do you know the story of Lann the Clever?"

"Of course!"

"Well, he tricked Lord Casterly into marrying his daughter with him, so I suppose I can try to trick your father, in a way."


	3. Weasels Can Be Heroes Too

"Sometimes, I wonder if I lead a Great House of Westeros or a house for lunatics. You didn't see how Genna confronted me! The way she talked to me! The way she addressed me! As she was my better!"

"Well, you know our sister was always prone to such outbursts. I suppose it comes with being married into House Frey. It can't be easy to deal with them. This last year must have been hell for her."

"Father made that match for her, even though I tried to make him see the futility of it. But he didn't listen. But that doesn't excuse Genna's behavior."

Kevan sighed. Sometimes, even he didn't understand his brother:

"Well, she is still our sister. I heard that she wished to talk to you. Maybe she will apologize."

"I have nothing to speak with her. Tell her I don't care what she wants!"

"Yes, my lord."

Meanwhile, Genna and Emmon were in their room talking while servants unpacked the last of their luggage:

"What are you doing, Sylla? This is a Braavosi golden cup, not a cock to rub it like that! Please, be careful!"

"Sorry, m'lady!"

"My love, let the girl be. She did nothing wrong."

"She did everything wrong, Emm! But of course, you loved it seeing her rubbing that cup that way? Hmm? Maybe you wished she would do the same to you?"

"No, my beautiful flower, I am only yours, as you are only mine!"

"Yes… So, what do you think about this brother of mine? He wishes to go to Valyria!"

"Well… he is a brave man… But many brave men tried to go over there and, you know, nothing has been heard of them ever since."

"Tsk… I never understood why men desire glory so much."

"Umm, it's complicated."

"Of course is complicated for you. You never understand such things. You are such a coward."

"I am not, my dear. For you, I would brave even the Dothraki Sea!"

"Ha! The only thing you ever braved is your back pain."

"For you!"

"Girls, leave us."

"Yes, m'lady!"

After the servants left, Emmon was in a state of bliss. Maybe Genna will reward him for being so romantic. Maybe she will even make love with him.

"Listen, Emm, I want to ask you a favor."

"For you, everything, my love!"

"Kevan told me that Tywin is unwilling to give me an answer to a problem of mine, because of what happened, you know, at the dinner. Now, I want you to go to him and tell him that you want to go hunting for a few days with Tyrion and Gerion, as a farewell for my youngest brother."

"But, little flower, the last time I went hunting I was ten. Me and my half-brother Ryger Rivers went to a forest for deer and I almost died there… And I can't speak with Lord Tywin… You know he hates me! I don't want to end up with my head on a spike! And that argument you had with him wouldn't help my cause either!"

"If there is something Tywin cares about is family. You are the father of his nephews. And besides, will not go hunting, fool. You will help me smuggle Tyrion out of Westeros!"

"What? My love, are you unwell?"

Genna then undressed, revealing her nakedness in front of her husband.

"Do I look unwell to you, Emm?"

"N-No, my love!"

"But what about you? Are you unwell… down there?"

"No! I am more than ready to couple with you!"

"Bah… If you can't handle this little mission I gave you, surely you are unable to handle me. Or the things I've learned from that filthy book I bought in Lannisport."

"What… what book?"

" _What can you do in bed with equestrian gear!_ "

"Equestrian…?"

Genna approached Emm and touched his cock, which was covered by his pants.

"Yes. Wouldn't you want to be my little horse?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then, be a good baby foal and go speak with Tywin. Tell him you want to take Tyrion with you and Gery to a hunt. But if you reveal the other part of my plan to him, I'll have you gelded and sent to the Wall as a bed warmer for those in the Night's Watch. Imagine, Emm, hundreds of black brothers with hungry cocks just waiting for you!"

"You… wouldn't do that to me, honey!"

"Try me!"

"Fine… I'll go! Right now!"

"That's the spirit."

Emmon left the room in a hurry while Genna put her dress back on her. She hoped that her husband wouldn't mess it up. Of course, she wouldn't geld him as he was the father of his children, and anyone who claims otherwise is a liar. She was only seven when she married him and in the last forty-seven years of marriage her feelings evolved from fear to disgust to a playful distaste. Genna enjoyed teasing and insulting Emmon as he never talked back. However, she cared for him and she enjoyed seeing Emmon happy, especially when he was in the presence of their grandchildren. Unlike many of his siblings, he was quite a reasonable individual, however a bit neurotic.

The nervous and bald headed Emmon knocked on the door of Tywin's solar.

"Come in!"

"Uh, Lord Tywin?"

"Ser Emmon."

"Sorry to disrupt your work but I want to talk to you!"

"Sit."

Emmon Frey nervously sat down on a chair. For the entirety of time he lived at Casterly Rock, he was dead afraid of Tywin Lannister. But now, he was Genna's little foal so that should put a bit of steel in his spine.

"Speak, Ser Emmon, I don't have all day!"

"Umm, since we came back to C-Casterly Rock and…umm… since Gerion will leave for Valyria… I want to go hunting with him in the forest near Lannisport!"

"Hmm… I didn't take you for a hunter, Ser Emmon."

"Well, umm, when I was a child I was a pretty good hunter. I remember the time me and my half-brother…"

"I don't want to hear your stories about what you did as a child. If you want to go with that foolish brother of mine and hunt, hunt."

"Umm…"

"Yes? There is more?"

"I want to take Tyrion with us."

Tywin's face was struck by a grimace that made Emmon sweat.

"To take a dwarf hunting? You need a mascot?"

"No but… He is family and…"

"My family, not yours!"

"Well... I married his aunt so…"

"You married his aunt because my father was a fool and a weakling. And because I can't turn back time to avoid this nefarious incident, you lived here, in my home, sharing the bed with my sister. But that doesn't give you any right to call yourself as being part of MY family!"

"Umm… Actually, I kind of am family, according to the laws of gods and men. And I know that you are a spiritual individual and you'd never… you know, break those rules!"

Emmon thought inside of him, amazed by the courage to face Tywin like this, speaking to him more words in a few minutes than in forty-seven years: _Fool, what have you done? He will eat me alive. Gods, if he kills me, I hope he wouldn't torture me. A clean cut, straight to the neck, this is all what I'm asking for._

Tywin approached Emmon.

 _He's coming. Oh, at least I saw my beautiful tulip in her glorious nakedness after so much time. I'm dying happy!_

"Listen, and listen well. If you really want to test my patience, the way your wife did, you are doing a good job. Leave this room and never return here unless I say otherwise. If you want to take that damnable monster with you, take it. Feed him to the boars!"

"Uh… thank you, my lord… We will go tomorrow!"

"I don't care! Just leave!"

Emmon Frey bowed and left the room with such speed that it looked like he was just fifteen not more than sixty, as he was. He arrived in his and his wife's chambers.

"My darling, after facing your brother and after I persuaded him, he let me take Tyrion to the hunt!"

"Finally, you are good for something! Though I doubt you persuaded Tywin. Maybe he was just fed up with you… Nevertheless, your mission was a success and for this, you will receive your reward. A kiss on the cheek!"

Emmon was a bit disappointed that the reward wasn't more substantial but a kiss on the cheek was more than he could have hoped for. Surely beats being gelded and sent to the Wall.

She kissed him and he smiled, being happier than ever.

"Now, for the second part of my plan. During the hunt, you will escort Tyrion to a house near the harbor in Lannisport and you will stay there with him for two days while Gerion and his men hunt. When the _Laughing Lion_ will leave, you will bring Tyrion to the ship, you understand?"

"So… you plan on sending the boy to Valyria?"

"Gods… Emm, we will have to return to the Twins later this year. And imagine his life with Tywin. Tygett is dead, Gerion will leave, we will leave. What would happen with him all alone in this place?"

"Well, he will have Kevan and, you know… Dorna."

"Emm, Kevan and Dorna are just puppets on Tywin's string. They may be nice with the boy but when the moment will be upon them and they will have to face Tywin, they will side with him against Tyrion. Right now, we are the only hope this child has! And you know how mean and egotistical Tywin Lannister can be."

Emmon Frey knows very well. His time at Casterly Rock turned him from a cheerful and optimistic child to a nervous wreck, all because of something that he didn't chose. But Tywin never understood this and continued to bear for his good-brother a hefty amount of hatred. But Emmon had to adapt so he played the role of the sycophant kin hoping that one day, he will be free of this burden.

"Fine. Yes, you are right, as always. I feel pity for the boy too. And if I can help, I will help."

"Good."

"My dove… maybe…"

"What?"

"Maybe one day we will be free of this torment."

She smiled at him:

"One day."

The next morning, before dawn, a group of seven individuals left Casterly Rock. Gerion Lannister, Emmon Frey, Tyrion and four of Gerion's men, who were aware of the plan left for the hunting forest of Lannisport.

"Now, nephew, after we reach the city, we will separate. You and Emmon will remain at the house until we come back to leave for Valyria. Then, as we embark the _Laughing Lion_ , Emmon will bring you aboard in a box."

"A box? Really?"

"Well, at least your height can be put to good use once in a while."

Gerion laughed and Tyrion smiled. Without Tywin in his life, maybe he will have a chance to become a little bit happier.

Early in the morning, Lannisport was quiet, apart from several drunks and some whores. A city built in the shadow of Casterly Rock, Lannisport was a center of trading in the Westerlands and one of the major settlements of Westeros. When he was a child, Tyrion read about Loreon Lannister, the fifth of his name, a former King of the Rock, who liked to wander the city dressed as a whore or Tyrod Lannister, a Warden of the West who killed himself because he was spurned by his Targaryen lover right in the middle of the harbor. A city with a great history, but of course, the cities of Essos made it look like a small fishing village. Braavos, Lys, Myr, Volantis… These were the sights Tyrion's eyes wanted to see. And finally, he would have this opportunity. By the time the sun was up, Emmon and Tyrion arrived at the safehouse.

"So, nephew… Why are you so keen on leaving for Valyria? Aren't you afraid that you will die, or worse in that place? I heard that those with greyscale wander those ruins, waiting for people to infect and turn into Stone Men."

"Everything would be better than a life alongside Tywin Lannister."

"Ugh… I know what are you saying. There was a time in my life when I wanted to be another. Even a commoner. To wake up in the morning, work the field, feed the animals, bed my loving wife, have sons and daughters and, in the end, die while my grandchildren and loved ones mourn me. Some of those I have. Not a loving wife, but sons and grandchildren. It will have to do!"

"Genna loves you, in her own way."

"Maybe. But I am not furious of her. I am furious of my lord father. My older brother Stevron married that Swann girl for love. And I loved another. But when Walder Frey decided to intermingle Frey and Lannister blood, my dreams were gone."

"Who did you love?"

"A Tully. Daughter of Lord Ceylor Tully and Lady Blackwood. Her name was Celia. The first time I saw her, I thought the Maiden herself arrived and smiled at me. I wanted her love more than everything else in my life. But she was then betrothed to Prince Jaehaerys who spurned her, that sister-fucker cunt."

Tyrion never heard Emmon Frey swear. He didn't even know the man had such passion inside his heart.

"Then, my father coerced your lord grandfather Tytos to marry his only daughter to me. A girl of seven. I was fourteen at the time. I obeyed my father and I moved to Casterly Rock. I never thought I would miss the Twins so much."

Tyrion felt pity for the man. After his own mother died, Tyrion didn't know any female figure in his life except for Cersei and his aunt Genna, though only the latter gave him love. And Emmon was not a bad man, either, however he could never display any affection for Tyrion in public, as he feared Tywin's wrath. Now, he felt his aunt's husband much more relaxed and with an even greater desire to talk, to open his heart.

"Tell me, would you like to go with us to Valyria?"

Emmon raised his eyebrow.

"To do what, puke my guts out on sea and then, after reaching Valyria, provided we reach it, of course, die there? Sorry, nephew, but that adventure is not for me. I will return to the Twins, eventually and if father dies, well… Maybe I could become lord, if my little dove keeps her word and helps with the, you know, succession."

"She wants to kill your elder brother and his sons?"

"No! Or, at least… I don't know. Certainly I don't want that! But… if that is the only way and the price I have to pay to return home for good and rule, well, I am willing to pay it. Cursed as a kinslayer I might be, but believe me, it is a far better fate than being treated like a roadside shit by the Lion of Lannister."

He was right. Tywin could make anyone commit murder just to escape him.

"But if she doesn't keep her word and my father dies, I will be content with just being there for my brother to help him. The moment Walder Frey closes his eyes forever a war will start. Brothers will fight brothers just to be named the new Lord of the Crossing."

"Emm… Thank you for doing this for me. I know Aunt Genna convinced you to participate in this plan but really, thank you."

Emmon smiled and ruffled Tyrion's hair.

"Tomorrow will be a difficult day, nephew. I suggest you try to sleep for a bit. It's not like we have much to do in this house beside talk, drink and sleep."

"Drink?"

"Yes, there is a full cellar."

"Why didn't you say that?"

"Well, Gerion told me to keep you sober for, you know, tomorrow!"

"Well, it's still today!"

"That it is!"

"Come one, Emm!"

They descended into the cellar of the house, which was filled to the brim with wine.

"It's like heaven."

"Indeed."

"So, what do you prefer, Arbor or Dornish?"

"Wine."

"Not picky, I like that!"

They opened a bottle of Arbor.

"Let's drink! For the future!"

"For the future, nephew."

After a couple more bottles, Tyrion and Emmon were both drunk.

"Emm… it's…wow, amazing!"

"Agh… Yeah."

"So, up for some more…?

"Nah… let's…"

Emmon fell on the floor of the cellar. Tyrion smiled.

"Heh… I hope I will see you again…"


	4. Farewell, Westeros

It was evening. Tyrion never realized how much time has passed, since he was drunk and passed out on the floor. Emmon Frey still was asleep, reeking of wine. Eventually, he awoken too, after a few minutes.

"Gods… that thing was…"

"Amazing, isn't it?"

"Well, not the choice of words I'd use. I'd say… rather strong. My head is a mess!"

"Then you need another mug. There is nothing better to beat the hangover to a pulp than more wine, of course!"

"Heh, you read that into one of your books?"

"No, I just experimented."

"Of course you did."

Emmon Frey approached the window, looking at the sky. The sunset was upon them.

"Tomorrow, by this time, you will be on the ship, sailing towards Essos."

"Indeed."

"Well, it's the last night we spend together."

"Don't talk like we aren't going to make it."

"I try to be, you know, optimistic but your chances of success are slim, at best. As I recall, your ancestor Tommen Lannister, who lost the sword, had an immense fleet. What can you possibly do with just the _Laughing Lion_."

"It's not quantity that matters but quality. Something that your father Walder Frey should have learned long time ago."

Emmon should have been offended by Tyrion's remarks but he knew the dwarf was right. Lord Walder had a myriad of sons and daughters from countless women but very few of them can claim they are worthy of being called nobility.

"Have you reconsidered my offer to join us on the ship? You would be the first Frey to reach Valyria. Or even the first Frey to reach Essos."

"No, the first Frey to go to Essos was Jonothor Frey, in the year 107 since Aegon's Landing. He was sent by his father to be a cupbearer to a Triarch of Volantis. He eventually married the Triarch's daughter."

"Well, then you will be the second one to reach Essos, but the first one to Valyria!"

"I told you, I have no death wish."

"Fine, fine… So, what are we going to do until morning?"

"Sleep?"

"We slept for the entire day! And of course, I suppose you don't want to drink anymore so…"

"So…?"

"Let's play a game. We ask each other history questions. If one of us doesn't know the correct answer, we drink a cup of wine!"

"Is there any game you know that doesn't involve drinking?"

"Yes, but it does involve undressing."

"Fine, let's do your drinking game. But I warn you, I am pretty good at history."

"Good. Who was Hand of the King in 214?"

"Brynden Rivers, the Bloodraven. Bastard son of Aegon the Fourth of his name and Lady Blackwood."

"Very well!"

"My father actually met the Bloodraven. In 225, the court toured the Seven Kingdoms. Father was seventeen when he was invited to Riverrun when the court remained there for a fortnight. He said that Brynden scared him."

"Leave it to Walder Frey to have met historical relics in person."

"Now, it's my turn. Tell me, how many children does my father have?"

"What? I said history!"

"Well, you said yourself that father is old enough to have met historical relics so… I suppose he is part of history."

Tyrion was shocked. Emmon actually tricked him. The old man had cunning, that's for sure. It seems that beyond his neurotic behavior and infatuation with his aunt Genna, he was quite intelligent. Everybody plays the game, looks like.

"Well, you, of course. Stevron, Aenys… Jared! Aegon?"

"No, Aegon is actually my nephew. He is Stevron's second son. Poor boy. Dumb as a rock that one. He is the fool of the Twins; we call him Jinglebell."

"Umm… Black Walder?"

"Black Walder is my grandnephew. He is the son of my nephew Ryman which is the son of Stevron."

"Fuck that… I quit."

"So, drink!"

Tyrion drank.

After a few hours, long in the night, Tyrion was far drunker than Emmon. The man really didn't lie when he said he knew history. At least the time passed quickly.

"Emm, are you awake?"

"Yes, I won't sleep. I need to be ready for the signal, to bring you in the box."

"Fucking box?"

"What's a small sacrifice compared to what are you going to see? Unless you want to return to Casterly Rock?"

"No chance that would happen."

"Good. I suggest you sleep for a bit, you drank a little too much."

"No, I'm fine. Emm, what are you going to tell father after we leave?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I wasn't privy to that part of the plan."

"I see…"

Tyrion opened a window, having a beautiful view of the harbor in front of him. Casterly Rock was there too, immense, casting a large shadow over all of Lannisport. Just like his father casting a shadow all over the other members of the family. For the first time since he had the idea of leaving Westeros with Gerion, Tyrion thought about the consequences of his act. He would not see his brother, Jaime, in a long time, maybe… forever, if the rumors about Valyria are to be believed. But it's worth it. To see the world, to see for himself the majesty of Valyria, the largest city in the history, is something unbelievable. Even destroyed, Tyrion believed Valyria to be far greater than any of the five cities of the Seven Kingdoms. Oh, those hours. They need to pass faster. The moment he will be off Westeros, a new life will begin for him, far from the game, far from the problems… Far from Tywin Lannister. Tyrion started to fall asleep.

After what seemed to him like moments, his uncle Gerion and his men entered the house and were speaking with Emmon. Tyrion awakened.

"You are drunk!"

"N-no… He is drunk!"

He pointed towards Tyrion.

"Well, if my nephew wouldn't be a lecherous drunkard, he wouldn't be the nephew I know and love."

Gerion ruffled Tyrion's hair.

"Are you ready?"

"Of course!"

"The mad child told me I should come with you."

"Why not? The more, the merrier."

"You know I can't do this. Now, tell me, what I am going to do now?"

"Here is the box. You are going to bring it exactly at sunrise. If Tywin asks you what is inside, you will tell it's Arbor wine for the journey. Understood?"

"What… T-Tywin Lannister will be there?"

"Yes, he will say farewell to us. It's tradition. Don't tell me you are getting soft!"

"N-no, but…"

"So, are we clear? Tyrion?"

"Yes, Uncle, even though I despise your manner of smuggling me unto the ship!"

Gerion started to laugh:

"Well, if I had a raven the size of a horse, you would travel on its back. For now, the box will do fine. Be ready. When the sun is up, you leave the house with the boy in the box."

"Yes, Gerion."

After the youngest brother of Tywin Lannister left the house, Emmon and Tyrion were left with a large, wooden box with only two holes in the lid.

"Ugh… I suppose we should start putting you inside, it's almost dawn."

"Fuck…"

Tyrion felt a bit claustrophobic inside the crate. He could only see through the small holes the ceiling of the house and sometimes, he could see Emmon walking around.

"Nephew, I hope you are not very heavy. I cannot carry large weights. And please, try not to move inside."

"I can only move my hands here. So, I think I will milk my eel until we reach the ship!"

"Please, don't do that!"

After a few more moments, Emmon picked up the crate with Tyrion inside.

"Ugh… it's not too heavy. Now, we are leaving the house."

"Good!"

Tyrion felt strange, like he was floating. It wasn't very comfortable. Which can be said about Emmon too. Carrying a large box with a dwarf inside can't be very easy, especially when you are in your sixties. After a long walk that seemed to have lasted an hour, Tyrion heard his father's voice. He could only see the sky through the holes.

"Ser Emmon. You are late."

"Sorry, milords, but I had to pick up this box with Arbor wine from a merchant in the city. I walked slowly, as I am tired from the hunt."

"I see… Well, you look like a glorified servant with that crate in your hands. Take it to the ship."

Emmon, feeling relieved, entered the _Laughing Lion_ , a large brig manned by a big crew, all sailors from Lannisport and Oldtown. They weren't very happy to sail to Valyria but the promise of that huge amount of gold took some of the doubts away. The ship had red sails, each of them bearing a golden lion. It was commissioned during the lifetime of Tytos Lannister, Gerion's father, bearing the former Lord of the Rock's nickname. Again, Tywin's voice was heard.

"And where is that pathetic little lecher? Probably to some brothel, no?"

"Well, after we returned to the city, he went to the tavern, so yes, probably at the brothel."

"Typical. Now, I bid you farewell, brother. May you return alive and well and bring glory to our house, as you promised."

"Tywin. I want to ask you a favor. Take care of Joy. Swear me, by the Old Gods and the New that you will never spurn her!"

Tywin looked into his brother's eyes. He was angry because his honor was put into questioning by Gerion but he complied.

"I swear."

Genna Lannister approached her younger brother:

"Gery, be well on your journey and come back alive. Take care of what I've entrusted you, my hopes and dreams. And be careful."

"Thank you, sister. I will!"

She hugged and kissed Gerion. Emmon Frey returned on the shore:

"Well, what can I say… I want… I want to confess something! My dove, in our marriage you always chided on me and you know… I may not be the best husband in the world for a goddess like you, but now I want to make you truly happy… I want to leave with Gerion. To recover that damned sword of his."

Genna's world crumbled in a moment. Her Emm, leaving for Valyria? No, it can't be!

"Emm, you can't be serious! You are drunk! I can sense the smell of wine on you from a thousand leagues away. What can you possibly do in this journey? Must I remind you that you puked while we travelled on the Trident?"

Tywin was disgusted:

"Stop your worthless bravado, Ser Emmon. You are not cut for heroic journeys. Let Gerion go and do something useful for me. Go find that monster dwarf and return to Casterly Rock!"

Tyrion couldn't suffer anymore. He left the box and showed himself to his father.

"He found me!"

"Tyrion?! What are you doing on the _Laughing Lion_?"

"I will leave for Valyria with Uncle Gerion AND Uncle Emmon."

"What madness is this? This was a plan, no? You planned to smuggle my son to Essos?"

"Now I'm your son? A few moments ago I was a monster dwarf. When I was sixteen, you put me responsible with the cisterns and the sewers of the Rock instead of letting me go to the Free Cities. Now, I am going to honor your house with the only few people that ever believed in me!"

"It seems that drink muddled your mind. Get down from there or I swear to you, this ship will never leave Lannisport's harbor!"

"This is the power of the great lord Tywin Lannister. Threats! Always threats. Well, you can burn the _Laughing Lion_ if you want, I will burn with it."

Gerion smiled, being the proudest he's ever been of his nephew:

"Me too! I will never let you destroy the only hope the boy has, like you did with my hopes, or Tyg's."

"Gerion, only you put those absurd thoughts in the child's head. Please, reconsider! Tyrion, you are not cut for this kind of thing!"

"Why, Uncle Kevan? Because Tywin Lannister told me I am not cut for this kind of thing? Because he told you that you are not cut for anything but serve him? I won't do it!"

Emmon Frey was sweaty, not just from carrying the box but from the way Tyrion confronted Tywin. He decided that this moment right now is the decisive moment in his life: will he be a pathetic weasel for the rest of his life or he will finally carve his name in the history books of Westeros for more than marrying Genna Lannister. He chose:

"Lord Tywin… Forty-seven years ago I arrived in your home to marry your sister and since then, you've treated me like scum. Now, I am near the end of my life and I consider I suffered enough your mistreatment. I made my duty by my father and by my wife, whom I've learned to love. But now, after so many years, I want to choose something for me. Those few days since the Valyria issue was discussed, they changed me. Smuggling Tyrion, getting drunk in that cellar, remembering who I was before all of this. I was a child. A cheerful child, a child who loved, who hoped. But when that septon tied mine and Lady Genna's fates together, that child died, because of you. In my sixty-first year, I choose life. I choose to live, even if this life I chose will lead me to my death. But better to die in the Country of Dragons, where House Targaryen acquired the power to conquer an entire continent, then to live like a shadow in the Country of Lions."

Tywin froze:

"You…"

"Yes, me!"

He then turned to Genna:

"My love, I have to do this. I hope I will return someday. But if not, I'm telling you this: you and the children were the only bright stars in the dark sky of my life. I love you, and I love my children and my grandchildren. I want them to remember me for being a brave man, not a weasel."

A tear fell on Genna's cheek:

"Emm… Go… Take care of Tyrion and my brother."

Tywin Lannister was rabid:

"Do what you want, you miserable Frey bastard. But you, Tyrion, you are my son. You have to obey me."

"I don't have to obey you. I don't have to obey a killer. You didn't just kill Uncle Emm's hopes, you killed mine as well. Because of your pathetic hatred."

"How dare you, you who killed your mother when you were born?"

"I killed her, yes, but unintentionally. Unlike you, who took the lives of two innocent babies. Or I have to remind you what happened in King's Landing?"

If Tywin wouldn't have feared the destiny a kinslayer has, he would have killed Tyrion in that moment. However, something was wrong inside of him. He felt something else… was it pride? His son was very much a lion and when a lion roars, the world trembles. Even he, the mighty Tywin Lannister, knew how to admit defeat."

"Go, then. Leave Westeros and never come back, you cursed monster. May your ship burst in flames and burn in the middle of the sea!"

Tywin, Kevan and Dorna left. Genna stayed behind, crying. Not every day a lioness cried, but now…

Tyrion Lannister, Gerion Lannister and Emmon Frey stood on the starboard side of the ship and waved to her. Emmon's children were with Genna there too, Cleos, Lyonel, Tion and Little Walder, waving. Soon, the _Laughing Lion_ would be just a tiny spot which was getting farther and farther south.

On the ship, Gerion congratulated both his travelling companions:

"What have you done took courage, both of you."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"Well… I hope I don't regret my words."


	5. Trouble at Sea

"So, we have provisions to last for three months, and water for five. The crew is happy and all is good. We will approach the Arbor's coast tomorrow if the wind holds, but we won't stop until we reach Lys."

Gerion folded his map and drank a cup of wine.

"That's a month, at least, with the good wind."

"Well, a month may seem a long time but the _Lion_ is a good ship, she'll take us there. So don't worry, Emmon."

"I don't. We all know it's a one-way trip so at least let us postpone our deaths for as long as we can."

"Emm, you and your optimism. Where is your sense of adventure? At least you have adapted at sea, you haven't puked in days."

Tyrion's jape amused Gerion but Emmon Frey was implacable:

"Well, at least we'll die far from Westeros and all that nonsense in it."

The three noblemen left the captain's quarters, walking towards the main deck. There, the captain of the ship, One-Eyed Garon, awaited them.

"My lords, the day is as beautiful as it can be and the wind favors us. The Lord of Light is on our side!"

Garon Flowers was a bastard son of Lord Garth Sloane of Petal's Dusk and a Braavosi singer which toured the world during the reign of King Aegon the Fifth. The singer abandoned him after birth and his father raised him alongside his trueborn children who hated their half-brother. When Garon turned 14, he ran from his father's castle to Oldtown where he would become a seaman on the _Burning Tower_ , one of the merchant ships of House Hightower, hoping that one day, he would serve on the _Honor of Oldtown_ , the flagship galley of the Hightowers. However, during one of the _Burning Tower_ 's voyages to the Free Cities, the ship was attacked by Lysene pirates. Garon killed several of them with only a piece of wood before being blinded in his left eye by a sword wielded by an enemy. The Oldtown ship managed to fend the attack and Garon was declared a hero, earning him the reputation as One-Eyed Garon. However, his wounds were severe and they had to dock in Myr where his wounds were tended by a priestess of R'hllor named Usaya, who eventually converted him to her religion. Gerion Lannister heard about One-Eyed Garon and his willingness to take on hard missions and made him the captain of the _Laughing Lion_ for this mission. While initially hating the ship, believing it to be just a tinderbox, he warmed up to her.

Tyrion frowned:

"Well, I hope the Lord of Light won't decide to incinerate us out of the blue. That would make my father a prophet."

"Imagine that, my brother a prophet. _Repent, you sinners, or you will be purified by fire and blood!_ "

"No, that's something a Targaryen would say. _Repent, you sinners, or you will be purified by my roar!_ "

"I think they will obey him. Nobody would like to hear him roar, as they would immediately smell his breath."

Emmon approached the two of them:

"I'm sorry to interrupt your discussion, but what is happening with that man?"

One of the sailors, an old man, started to vomit blood. Garon Flowers and the others approached him:

"What's wrong? Do you need help?"

"Ugh… I… feel bad. Dizzy."

"That is not seasickness. Especially in case of a sailor as experimented as Timm. Hugh, Norry, take him below deck to the maester!"

"Aye, aye, captain!"

The two sailors took their mate to the maester, an Ambrose by birth, by the name of Garth. Tyrion wandered what happened:

"I'm not a seaman but I can say to you, that is not something normal!"

"I wouldn't read much into this. The man is old. Just old age catching up to him. Haven't you noticed? He looked exactly like Emmon here."

"Laugh all you want, Gerion. What if it's plague? Or the bloody flux?"

Garon spoke:

"Bloody flux appears in pestilent places, like battlefields or slums, my lord, not on ships. As for the plague, well, it usually starts with a bout of fever. I didn't notice Timm to be feverish. We just need to let the maester do his thing and if it's something bad, we will quarantine Timm. Simple as that!"

"I hope you are right."

"I lived almost my entire life at sea, my lord, I know my trade."

All the people on the deck were preoccupied, except for the captain. Tyrion went to his quarters to read a book about various diseases, one wrote by a maester of the Citadel. Gerion Lannister sparred with one of his squires while Emmon Frey nervously walked around the upper deck, avoiding the spot where Timm had his issue a while back. After an hour, maester Garth summoned the nobles to his quarters:

"My lords, I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

"I knew it."

"It's quite serious, Ser Emmon. It appears Timm was poisoned. Nothing I could possibly do. The poison is from the Free Cities, highly lethal and quite undetectable, giving symptoms similar to various diseases. It's called the Last Sunrise. Before I could figure out a cure, he died."

Gerion was livid. Of course, it happens during a travel to lose one or two of your men, but to poison? This was preposterous.

"How did it happen?"

"Well, the Last Sunrise must be ingested in order to do its work so it must have been something he ate or drank."

Tyrion spoke to his uncles:

"You do realize that Timm ate from the provisions we brought from Casterly Rock. So, all of us have this poison in our systems."

"Shit!"

"Ugh… I knew we would die on this journey."

"Calm down, my lords. The poison acts within an hour since entering the body, so you don't have any poison in your system. When did you last eat?"

"Three hours ago."

"Well… at dawn."

"I didn't eat anything today, just wine!"

"So you are safe."

"We are not safe; we must find the source of poison before it gets the entire ship. So we can't eat anything anymore, until we figure this out."

Emmon Frey disagreed with Gerion:

"Well… we all ate from that barrel we have in storage in our cabin. Bread and fish. So that one is safe, because we didn't puke blood and, you know, died."

"Emm is right. For now, we must eat just from that barrel. But what about the crew?"

"Tyrion is right; this thing will escalate quickly unless we find out the poisoned provisions. Maester, is there a way to detect this poison?"

"Ser Gerion, there is a way, but if we use it, we can't consume the food we test even if it's clean."

"Well, we can take samples from each barrel and, you know… Test them?"

"It could work."

"Gerion, me and the maester will sort this out, you and Tyrion go and tell the crew that their mate died because of a ruptured bowel or something… I don't know, just… tell them, you know?"

"Good thinking. Come, nephew."

On the main deck, after the Lannisters informed the captain about Timm, he held a small funeral service for their fallen comrade:

"Our brother Timm served on countless ships in his lifetime. He was born a sailor, he died a sailor. And may the Lord of Light guard his soul."

One-Eyed Garon approached the corpse of Timm and kissed his lips. Tyrion was dumbfounded:

"Oh… I didn't know the captain liked boys."

Garon Flowers laughed:

"No, no… This is part of our faith in the Lord of Light."

"I heard about it, it's called the last kiss, no?"

"Yes, Ser Gerion, but I don't have the same powers as the priests of R'hllor. It's just symbolic."

"I see."

Tyrion was awed. He just learned something new about other cultures. When he lived in King's Landing, the only red priest of R'hllor he met was Thoros of Myr but the fat cleric was more interested in women and drink than religion, so he didn't speak much about his faith. A very interesting custom, even if it's a bit strange. However, Tyrion wondered how the kiss of a proper Red Priestess would be like.

An hour later, Tyrion and Gerion were in their cabin.

"Uncle, do you think that this kiss of the Lord of Light can bring people back to life?"

"The Red God's religion is a queer one but sometimes I'm inclined to believe that he is the one true god, as his priests say."

"I didn't take you for a believer."

"I'm not, but I have eyes. When I was sixteen, I travelled throughout the Free Cities and I even saw a religious service in the Red Temple in Volantis."

"How was it?"

"The temple or the service?"

"Both."

"Well, the temple is three times the size of the Sept of Baelor in King's Landing. In my entire life, I never saw so many columns and bridges and towers. It's truly a masterpiece. As for the service, well… It's unusual, to say the least."

"How so?"

"Well, every religion in the known world has a temple or a place of worship in Volantis. I saw a sept there and even an altar dedicated to the Old Gods of the forest. However, the faith of the Red God was the only one which embraced the slaves and tried to give them hope. The Temple even purchases slaves and train them to be priests."

"The priests are slaves?"

"The majority of them, yes. This is why slaves worship R'hllor. They believe that one day, they will be freed. Slavery is a huge problem in Volantis, and in most of the eastern Essos. The Triarchs of the city hate the red priests and many times in the past they tried to hire mercenary companies to kill them and destroy the Temple, however none managed to do this so far. Some companies simply refused because they were believers too, others were killed by the Fiery Hand, a company made of one thousand warriors dedicated to the Lord of Light, whose responsibility is to guard the Temple day and night. That's life in Volantis. Pray you will never taste the life as a slave. I saw many of them just… devoid of life, of anything resembling humanity. Their bodies moved but their minds, their hearts… Just stood there."

"And you think religion is the answer for their needs?"

"No, but people will cling to anything if that will give them succor."

Tyrion processed everything he had learned from Gerion. This is why this journey is so important for him, to learn more, to find out the truth about the world he was thrown in. This is why on the ship, he speaks little. _There is a time for talking and also a time for listening_ , he said.

Soon after, Emmon entered the cabin:

"So?"

"We found out the poison's source. It is a cask of wine. All the other barrels are clean."

"Shit… Tywin. I bet my sword hand it is him. Nobody else had access to the ship. He probably put it there while we were hunting and you were hiding."

"I… I don't know, Gerion."

"Who else?"

Tyrion wasn't surprised. Tywin probably wanted to bring their deaths quicker with poison rather than wait for them to die in Valyria. This way, he could say that they just disappeared in the cursed Smoking Sea.

"It doesn't matter. Mark that cask of poisoned wine and put it in my quarters. Maybe it will come in handy one day."

"Yes, to kill us."

"To kill, yes. Not necessarily us."

Emmon sensed a coldness inside Tyrion. He was probably angry that his father might have tried to poison them. However, what does he plan to do with that poisoned wine?

A few days passed without any more incidents. While the crew's fear that ironborn raiders would come for their ship was great, none approached the _Laughing Lion_. No one, even the most daring ironborn warrior won't dare to attack a Lannister sail. The _Lion_ passed the Arbor and now was travelling alongside the southern Dornish peninsula. Tyrion was on his bed, in his cabin, reading a book about the Free City of Lys, their first stop on the road to Valyria. Lys the Lovely, as it is known, it is said to house every pleasure known to man and many of its inhabitants share the blood of Old Valyria, thus giving them the white-blond hair and the purple eyes. _A city full of Targaryens. That would be a sight to see._ Tyrion wondered if the Lysene practiced incest like the former Great House of Westeros. Of course, in history, the legendary Lysene family of Rogare actually intermingled with the Targaryen kings. Viserys the Second of his name married a Rogare and fathered three children with her, one of them being arguably the worst king in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon the Fourth. He fathered countless baseborn sons and daughters and spurned his own trueborn son. On his deathbed, he legitimized all of his bastards and plunged Westeros into another dark age. _Was Aegon a worse father than Tywin Lannister?_ Tyrion couldn't help but wonder. He was always fascinated, even almost obsessed with House Targaryen. _How did they control their dragons?_ Maybe in Valyria, they will find the answer.


	6. The Last Sunrise

"Nephew, if the gods, whoever they may be, considered fucking to be sinful, then why it is pleasurable?"

"Maybe when they dictated their laws, they wanted to say… knitting instead of fucking."

"Knitting? Why would knitting be sinful?"

"Well… I don't know, but it's better for knitting to be sinful than fucking."

"Yes, indeed."

Tyrion and his uncle, Gerion, were drunk, alongside One-Eyed Garon and another sailor, Hobart. They were near Lys, with only a night of sailing between they and the Free City. Of course, after months at sea, the only thing the passengers and the crew of the _Lion_ were thinking at was sex. Well, with the exception of Emmon Frey.

"Emm, are you sure you don't want to… fuck? Ha, ha!"

"I prefer to be faithful to my wife."

"Yeah, because she was sooo faithful to you, but I guess at sixty-one you stopped having…urges!"

"What are you insinuating, Tyrion?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"Listen, I know what people are saying. I am not deaf, nor blind. But your aunt's integrity is unquestionable. As for my urges, well, they are only for my wife!"

"And tell me, Emmon, what are you going to do when you will go with us in the brothel and you will be the only one not fucking? People will think you a eunuch."

"Yeah, a eunuch."

"Especially as you are bald and you have no beard."

"Simple, I won't go to the brother with you. I will stay at an inn or on the ship."

Garon Flowers laughed:

"With all due respect, my lord of Frey, you are one big stick in the mud."

"Stick in the mud? I am here with you, going full speed towards certain death, I am not a stick in the mud!"

"Actually, we are going full speed towards certain… pleasures!"

"Cunts… A lot of cunts."

"And cocks."

Hobard's reply was met with questioning eyes from the others.

"So you like boys?"

"Yes, milord."

Gerion smirked:

"Well, that's no problem. In Lys, there are all kinds of appetizers to sate even the most refined of palates. It's not like Westeros."

Emmon Frey interrupted Gerion:

"Well, at least in Westeros, nobody tries to poison you at every minute."

Tyrion laughed, remembering the cask of wine in his room:

"Really?"

"Now, now. The night is still young and so are we, well, except Emmon. But let's make him an honorary young man for the evening."

Emmon was not impressed. Tyrion took a chair from the cabin and after sitting on it with his feet, to compensate for his height, he started to shout:

"Who is the best singer here? I heard you all singing your… sailor… songs…"

He puked. It was normal, after an entire evening drinking only wine. Of course, he drank more wine to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

"Like I said… I heard you all with your sailor songs. But for this night, I want something… romantic… No, no, something better. Something sad! Make me cry!"

Emmon Frey raised his hand.

"Well, I like to sing. I don't know if I'm any good, but I'll try."

Tyrion laughed:

"I asked the crew but… Fine, sing something, Emm."

Emmon coughed:

 _I never thought I'll be alone,_

 _In this world of pain,_

 _Inside those dreary walls of stone,_

 _That I have fought to gain._

 _In wars of yore I battled hard_

 _To win respect and glory_

 _But at the end of all of that_

 _I've started to die slowly._

 _My beloved wife, so pretty,_

 _Her favor I had won,_

 _But in the bed of blood she died,_

 _Alongside our son._

 _I've buried them and suffered much,_

 _Tears of blood I've cried,_

 _Until my heart was cold as stone,_

 _Until my eyes had dried._

 _I tried to marry one more time,_

 _This time, a lady from the Reach,_

 _In vain she tried to ease my pain,_

 _My heart's stone, she couldn't breach._

 _Yet our son was wonderful,_

 _So handsome and so kind,_

 _Yet the cruel fate stroke again!_

 _From a horse he fell… He died!_

 _Oh, cruel gods, take me instead!_

 _And let him be alive,_

 _For I have wished to die, not him,_

 _He, who was so full of life!_

 _My wife told me: This is fate,_

 _You are a noble, you can't cry,_

 _This is the life the gods have sent us,_

 _You're born, you grow and then you die!_

 _I don't care if I am a noble_

 _I piss on titles and lands_

 _I'd give them all away at once,_

 _To feel again my children's hands._

 _The banner of my father's house_

 _A piece of cloth without a meaning,_

 _No noble name and noble blood,_

 _Will drive away the pain I'm feeling._

Everyone was astonished. They never knew that Emmon could sing so beautifully. And the song was really a sad one but it was unknown to Tyrion.

"Emm… wow… What song is this?"

"The Wail of the Falcon, a ballad from the Vale. It's about Ser Edgar Arryn, who lost his first wife and both his sons. He eventually left the Eyrie and took the black."

Gerion was truly sad. He immediately thought at his daughter, Joy. It was months since they left Lannisport. Is she well-fed? Is she warm? Is she dead? Maybe Tywin killed her, just to get back at him. Maybe he poisoned her, as he tried to poison them on the ship.

"Well… Now you made me sad. Come on, Emm, sing me another song. A bawdy one!"

"I'm not sure…"

The entire ship started to chant:

"Emmon, Emmon, Emmon!"

"Fine!"

 _A Northern lady came in sight_

 _As I was wounded in a fight_

 _"_ _I'll treat your wounds, my dear good knight,_

 _If you will fuck me all the night!"_

 _The wicked lady came from hell_

 _With tits as big as Winterfell_

 _"_ _My good dear knight, you look so well,_

 _Your cock so big, your face so swell."_

 _She came to me, under my sheets_

 _And shamelessly she flashed her tits_

 _"_ _My dear good knight, I love your bits,_

 _On honor I don't give two shits!"_

 _She sucked my cock until I came,_

 _And swallowed it all without a shame_

 _"_ _I'm hungry, I am not to blame,_

 _That in my cunt it burns a flame!"_

 _The lady then took off her dress,_

 _All night I fucked her, without stress,_

 _All night she screamed only "Yes, Yes!_

 _I never expected any less!"_

The entire ship laughed when they heard this song:

"Ha, ha, ha! What's with this one?"

"That's the _Northern Lady from Hell_."

"How come I never heard these songs?"

"Well, if you would have asked me before, you would have heard them."

Gerion's belly hurt from all the laughter:

"Now, it's my turn. Bawdy or sad?"

"Sad!"

"No, bawdy!"

"Hey, what about we tell jokes?"

Tyrion's idea was good.

"Fine, nephew, I'll start. What's the horniest season, winter or summer?"

"What?"

"Winter, because it's always coming."

"Ha, ha, ha! Good one. Emm?"

"Ugh… Why is Walder Frey the greatest lord in Westeros?"

"Because he can field an army from his breeches only. Come on, that's an old one. Me now. A Lannister enters a brothel with a jackass and a honeycomb…"

Before Tyrion could finish his joke, a huge noise was heard in front of the ship. Two large ships, approached the _Laughing Lion_.

"Shit… pirates! Garon, wake up!"

The captain was completely drunk.

"Fuck… Uncle, what are we going to do?"

"Fight, or die!"

"Or not…"

Tyrion stumbled towards his quarters and picked up a large piece of white cloth. He returned with it to the main deck:

"Uncle, give me your sword… I have a… plan!"

"Plan? You are drunk, and you are not a fighter. So what are you doing?"

"I will surrender the ship!"

"What?"

"Yes."

"Tyrion, what the fuck?"

"Hey, I said I have a plan. Come, play along!"

Tyrion and Gerion approached the port side of the _Lion_.

"Umm… who are you?"

A booming voice was heard from one of the enemy ships, speaking a Common tongue almost perfect, with just a faint accent.

"I am Captain Khorros of the _Whispering Swan_. I will capture your ship. If you oppose me, you will die. Surrender now and I will be merciful. If you don't comply, I will burn your ship."

"Ugh, you don't have to do this. I am Tyrion, of House Lannister. Son of Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Come to my ship and we will speak like gentlemen. I accept your surrender on the condition that you will accept my terms!"

Captain Khorros was intrigued. After the ships stopped, the gigantic pirate arrived on the main deck of the _Laughing Lion_ with five of his men. The crew of the _Lion_ was shocked to see one of the most dangerous pirates alive right there, on their ship.

"A dwarf? You mean to tell me this ship is captained by a dwarf? Did that fucking half-blind bastard die?"

"Well, not exactly. The captain is momentarily indisposed after he drank a bit too much. I am his benefactor, the one who organized this… little trip!"

"So, why is a Lannister sailing so far from home?"

"Well, I wanted to visit my lover. She lives in Lys."

"Who do you think I am, boy? This ship is the _Laughing Lion_ , the flagship of the Lannisport fleet. Whenever the _Lion_ leaves Westeros, it goes to the Iron Bank of Braavos, either to pay money to the bankers or to loan money from them. Which means you are going to Braavos."

"Braavos? Yeah, you caught us. We are going to Braavos."

"Of course you are going to Braavos. You Lannisters only know about gold. Some say that you love gold so much that you eat it and then you shit it so you can eat it again."

"Definitely, we are such shit-eaters. Now, if you want this ship, will you agree with my terms?"

"What terms?"

"If we give you the ship, swear right in front of your men, on your honor as a captain that you will take us to Lys so we can hire another captain to take us to… Braavos."

"You have a witty tongue, dwarf. And you?"

The pirate captain saw Gerion lying on his back on the deck.

"Lion armor, blond hair… You are another Lannister. It seems nobility in Westeros has all gone to shit if a dwarf decides what is right for you."

"Well…"

"I have a better idea. I'll take your ship, kill your crew and keep you as my hostages until Twyin Lannister pays us a ransom."

"Not a good idea."

"And why is that?"

"Because Tywin Lannister hates me. He will pay you no ransom."

"Fine, then I will keep the other Lannister, the one he doesn't hate and I will kill you too."

"I'm pretty sure he hates that one too. Either way, if you are so willing to kill me, at least grant me a last wish."

"What?"

"Let me drink wine, for the last time. I have in my quarters the best Arbor wine you can possibly imagine."

"Fine, let none say that I am merciless."

"Thank you, captain. Emm, be kind and bring the special wine from my room, please. I am going to die soon!"

"F…Fine!"

Emmon went to Tyrion's room and brought a barrel of wine big enough to sate an entire ship.

"Me first, dwarf!"

"Of course, captain."

Captain Khorros drank a jug of wine from the barrel.

"Hah! This is amazing! Pure Arbor wine! You can't drink this one, little man. This is ours now. Aerr, tell the boys to come here, all of them. We are taking this ship and we are going to drink their wine. Then, we kill them!"

Almost a hundred men boarded the _Laughing Lion_. Emmon Frey trembled while Gerion and Tyrion were tied by the mast. Captain Garon Flowers was unconscious, on the floor, being drunk, like half of the _Lion_ 's crew. The pirates were drinking until they finished the entire cask of Arbor wine.

"Delicious! I can feel it inside me! You Westerosi know how to make wine, I'll give you that!"

"Yes, it's a talent of ours. You see, every place in this world has its own thing. Casterly Rock has gold, the Arbor wine, the Braavosi money and the Lysene poison."

"And whores!"

"And whores, but especially poison. Just as there are many different types of wine, Dornish, Arbor, from Summer Isles, you know, there are different types of poison too. Especially in Lys. The tears of Lys are one. And I know of another one, the strangler. But there is one particular type of poison I heard only recently about."

The sun started to rise, filling the sky with warm light. The sea wasn't black anymore. Captain Khorros felt something wrong, and not only him. Suddenly, all of his men were vomiting blood.

"What… have you done?"

Khorros fell on his knees, holding on his abdomen. He felt dizzy and tired, but the pain was immense.

"You… fucking…"

After a few minutes, only he was conscious. Every other crew member he had was dead, in a pool of blood. Tyrion was shocked. He hadn't realized the lethal potential of that cask of wine. He killed almost a hundred people. But he had too. Otherwise, they would have killed them. He felt remorse, but he also felt peace.

"Enjoy your last sunrise, captain."


	7. A Trip in the High Tower

Lys was incredible. The sight of it made Tyrion forget for a moment that he poisoned and subsequently killed an entire pirate crew. The walls, the palaces, the markets, the brothels, the very atmosphere of the city was something so new and different for the dwarf. And the people! The people were dressed in colorful fabrics and the smell of their perfumes filled the air. Lys wasn't the largest Free City, not by a long shot, but for Tyrion it seemed the largest place he's ever been in.

"Nephew, let's go to an inn. I need to rest for a bit."

Gerion was glad to leave the _Lion_ for a few weeks, as the atmosphere on the ship became tense after the pirate attack. Still, everybody thanked Tyrion for what he has done, even though he felt awful, and still does. After a small walk throughout a splendid park, a group of noblemen approached the Westerosi convoy. One of them spoke in the Common tongue:

"My lords, welcome to Lys, the Lovely Free City."

"Well met, friend. With whom I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Haekar Ormollen, son of merchant prince Tregar Ormollen. My father cordially invites you and your men to his palace."

"Your father is very kind. We accept his invitation. It's been a long journey."

"Very well."

Haekar signaled a group of slaves who immediately went to carry the luggage from the _Laughing Lion_. Tyrion was disgusted. These were men, not animals. One of them, a young boy, younger than Tyrion, had his back full of scars, from the whipping the masters applied to him. After a few more moments, they arrived to a splendid palace, larger than any in that neighborhood. Inside the courtyard, a huge fountain in the form of a fish, made entirely from gold, glittered in the sun. _And they say the Lannisters shit gold…_

Inside the mansion, a small, baldheaded man, probably a bit younger than Emmon Frey, descended from a large staircase. He was dressed in a green cloak with grapes embroideries. With him, a tall, blond woman with skin the color of cream wearing a beautiful golden dress with a broch that resembled a tower and a pearl necklace around her neck approached the guests.

"Welcome to my house, dear guests. I am prince Tregar Ormollen of Lys."

Gerion Lannister shook the man's hand.

"I am Gerion, son of Tytos, of House Lannister of Casterly Rock. With me, my nephew, Tyrion, son of Tywin and my good-brother, Emmon, son of Walder, of House Frey of the Crossing."

"I am thrilled to have Westerosi nobility as guests in my home. Ah, where are my manners. This goddess of beauty is also from one of the sunset kingdoms. Allow me to introduce you Lynesse, of House Hightower!"

Lynesse Hightower was something of a legendary figure in Westeros, known in certain circles as a femme fatale and a devourer of men and wealth. The tenth child of Lord Leyton Hightower, Lynesse married a northern noble, Ser Jorah Mormont, soon after he won the Tourney of Lannisport, held to celebrate the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion. Even though she loved him, after moving to Bear Island, she was unhappy as she had none of the comforts of her former life in the south and thus, she convinced her husband to sell poachers to slavers from the east to gain more money. After Eddard Stark declared Jorah Mormont a traitor, he and Lynesse left Westeros for the Free Cities. After Jorah joined a sellsword company, she left him and became the concubine of Tregar and soon after, she was ruling his entire household. The ambitious and beautiful Westerosi had more importance for Ormollen than even his lawful wife, who lived in fear of her. Tyrion didn't have pleasant memories about the Hightowers as his father once tried to broker a marriage between him and one of Lady Lynesse's sisters, but it didn't work.

"A pleasure, my lords. But I suppose it's _good to see you again_ , as we've met long time ago, in… another life."

She was referring probably to the tourney of Lannisport.

"The pleasure is all mine, milady."

A small banquet started, with food, drink and women. Gerion spoke with Tregar while fondling a slave's tits:

"So tell me, prince Tregar, why this hospitality? We didn't come to Lys to trade."

"It's the right thing to do. When Lynesse told me she saw a ship in the port flying the banners of a noble house from the West, especially one as great as House Lannister, I knew that I need to prepare her a surprise. Not every day she has a chance to speak with people from her homeland. Usually, the only Westerosi coming to my palace are merchants or explorers."

"We actually are explorers too. We intend to sail to Valyria."

Tregar's eyes opened even more. Lynesse was smiling, her full lips looking as appetizing as the rest of her body.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but did you say Valyria?"

Tyrion acknowledged:

"Yes. My uncle said the truth. We want to recover the ancestral sword of House Lannister. It was lost long ago by a King of the Rock."

"Why? House Lannister is a powerful house even without a Valyrian blade. As for you, Lord Tyrion, as your brother can't inherit due to his white cloak, you are the heir of Casterly Rock. Yet you endanger yourself travelling to that cursed ruin."

"Ah, your brother is the one they call the Kingslayer!"

Tyrion wasn't surprised that his brother's fame reached even the Free Cities. Jaime Lannister is a controversial figure in the known world, revered for his martial prowess and talent as a fighter but shunned for killing the king he swore to protect. The irony… Jaime killed hundreds and was glorified for that, yet when he killed only one man, he became the Kingslayer, universally hated by everyone.

"Yes, prince Tregar, but he won't be happy if you call him that."

Lady Lynesse laughed:

"Well, by only a swish of his sword, he ended a dynasty. He should be proud of his moniker. I remember how much pain and suffering the Mad King inflicted on the people of Westeros. You are better off without him."

"If only everyone in the Seven Kingdoms would think as you!"

"If only…"

From what Tyrion could perceive of Lynesse Hightower, he realized the fact that she missed her home, even though her fate in Westeros would be a tad worse than in Essos. In the Seven Kingdoms, women didn't have much of a status. Tyrion could count on his fingers the number of women which held some kind of authority. He could think of the ladies of the North: Lady Barbrey Dustin of Barrowton, Lady Mormont and her daughters, fierce as bears and formidable in battle and of course the Dornish ladies and his own aunt Genna Lannister. But in the other regions, a woman, even though she is of noble birth, she is nothing more than an object to be traded for power and alliances for her father and a mean to bear sons for her husband. Many women have been spurned by their husbands in the history of Westeros for not producing male children. It was sad, but it was the truth. Lady Lynesse wore pretty much the pants in the _family_ she had with Ormollen here in Lys, something that wouldn't happen in Westeros, unless your name was Genna Lannister or you were born in Dorne or you were the daughter of a bear.

"Now, now, don't be sad, my dear. I know you miss your family but here you have everything you need."

 _And more_ , Tyrion thought. The dwarf looked around the room and saw his uncle Emmon drinking a cup of wine and not being interested in the slightest in the girls around him. _That one, though… He needs something in his life_.

Tyrion climbed down his chair and went straight to the Frey:

"What is wrong, Emm?"

"Nothing, nephew. I'm just sad, that's all."

"Why?"

"Just look at this place. I've never had a chance to offer Genna something like this."

"Well, you can't say she didn't have luxury at Casterly Rock. But, you know, happiness isn't just money. Love, kindness, those things matter. And you are offering her those things, and even more."

"Maybe. But…"

"Hey, I'm not going to even pretend that my life experience is as great as yours, because I'm still just a child and you are old but don't despair. Enjoy the party, I certainly do."

Emmon smiled, a sad red smile, full of pain and regret. Deeply enjoyed chewing sourleaf and, because of this, his teeth were red. He once told Tyrion that a traveler from Volantis who peddled his wares at Casterly Rock believed that Emmon was some kind of a blood drinker, much to the Frey's dismay. His life has never been easy and it's hard to get accustomed to another lifestyle, especially at his age. Gerion on the other hand didn't have this problem, as he deeply enjoyed the company of the whores provided by Tregar Ormollen:

"Tell me, love, do you speak the Common tongue?"

"I do, my lord."

"Are you Westerosi?"

"No, my lord, I'm from Tolos."

"Tolos? So you are from the other side of the Valyrian Peninsula. Tell me, love, could you teach me some… tricks you've learned in your birthplace?"

"Umm, I can teach you things I've learned here. Tolosi are more warriors than lovers."

She was right. Tolos was renowned for using a type of infantry armed with slingshots, not swords but instead of using stone pellets, the Tolosi slingers use small lead balls which can inflict severe damage on contact.

"Well, shall we go to… our lesson?"

"After you, my lord."

Gerion left with the Tolosi whore while Tyrion remained downstairs, in the company of the merchant prince. The man viewed the dwarf as more of a curiosity than anything else. In Lys, dwarfs were usually either part of theatre troupes or fools. To see one as highly educated as Tyrion was certainly something interesting. The Imp courteously smiled towards Tregar Ormollen and went to the balcony which gave a beautiful view of Lys, especially in the evening. _How many hours did it pass?_ Certainly a lot of them, as the sun was already starting to set. Lynesse Hightower approached him, having a glass of wine in her hand. Those with the Hightower blood in their veins were tall and proud people, with a regal bearing about them. Lynesse was no different, but there was something about her that made her different from her siblings.

"Lord Tyrion, do you like the view?"

"Absolutely, milady. It's breathtaking."

"Well, I don't really want Lys to take your breath, milord. I want me to take it."

She took out one of her breasts, making Tyrion blush. Not that he never saw a tit in his life, he's seen quite a few of them but the situation in itself was strange. He was invited into a noble's house and now he was supposed to fuck the man's concubine?

"Umm… milady, are you sure you know what you are doing? If your… protector comes here?"

"Maybe he will watch us… maybe he will learn something. In bed, he is… awful. I don't even know how he got that son of his in the first place."

"Lady Lynesse, it's… unbecoming of a lady, even though you look absolutely ravishing but… I am a guest and I can't just violate guest rights."

"Essosi don't give a shit about guest rights. As for my behavior, I believe that fucking a noble, especially a Lannister, it's proper behavior of a lady such as myself. I am tired of stable hands and manwhores."

"Stable hands and manwhores?"

"Yes. I am one of the many concubines of my beloved prince. One would say I am the greatest of them. But does that satisfy me? Does that give me what I truly crave?"

"And what do you truly crave, milady?"

"What do you think, silly boy?"

"A… good, faithful husband?"

"Ha, ha, ha! You are so funny. I had such a husband. And I loved him. I believe I still do. But what about my other needs? The need of my… fiery blood?"

"I didn't know Hightowers had such… fiery blood!"

"Only me, dearie. Only me. See, I was the tenth-born child of my father and initially he wanted to give me to the Faith. How could I become a septa when my body had other urges? When Jorah claimed me as his wife, I was the happiest woman in the world. I had a fierce, Northern husband who once fucked me until I passed out. He loved me with all his being. But he got us exiled from Westeros. He did it for me but now… I am Tregar's woman, with all the boons and the shortcomings that come with it."

"Are there many shortcomings?"

"Well, firstly his cock. Look in the garden, Lord Tyrion. See that black beauty over there?"

Tyrion saw a young man grooming a horse in the garden. He was tall, well built, thus probably extremely strong.

"This one is Dessi, from the Summer Isles. He has the biggest prick I've ever seen and all of it is mine. But, if I leave with him, what life would I get to live? Would I have any of this luxury? See my predicament? I can go for cock and be poor or I can go for money and luxury and live unsatisfied. This way, I found a way to balance both."

"By fucking your lover's slaves while you spend his money?"

"You are a fast learner, my lord. But then, you arrived here. People from Essos believe that a dwarf's cock has magical powers. Oh, what do they know… I don't believe it, I know it. But its magic is more of a carnal, corporeal, debauched kind of magic, the one I want, the one I crave."

Lynesse put her hand inside Tyrion's pants, touching his already hardening cock.

"I see you crave my magic too…"

"Well, if you're putting it this way…"

"Then let's go. Let's make magic together."

"What about the prince?"

"Don't worry. As long as I fuck him once a week, he lets me do what I want."

"Fine…"

Lynesse and Tyrion returned to the hall where Emmon Frey and Tregar Ormollen talked about cyvasse, a new game that was becoming popular in the Free Cities.

"My love, me and Lord Lannister here are leaving for a bit. I want to show him the mansion, if you let me."

"Of course, my dear lady. I am sure you have a lot to show to the young lion here."

"Absolutely. Come, Lord Tyrion."

They went upstairs, into a room with a small fountain in the middle and a large bed.

"Here, that wife of his won't disturb us. Once, she saw me suck Dessi. I am tired of telling her that if she gets in my way, I will kill her son. And it would be a shame to kill such a bright and… potent young man."

"You've…"

"Yes. But I don't like him that much… That one's a biter."

With this, Lynesse proceeded to undress. Her body was perfect, one to die for. She removed Tyrion's pants, revealing what she coveted so much to have. She then proceeded to put her mouth on his cock, giving him sensations that even the most talented whore or King's Landing or Lannisport couldn't give him. Seemed like the years of exile made Lady Hightower perfect her abilities. _Gods… Now I understand why that lord sold men into slavery…_

After a few minutes, that were the most pleasurably in Tyrion's life, he eventually finished. Lady Lynesse swallowed all, throwing away her nobility only to receive what she needed so much.

"My lady… that was…"

"Up for some more?"

He could only nod.

After an hour, Lady Lynesse and Tyrion descended back.

"Ah, my love. I was starting to get worried."

"Silly Lord Tyrion got lost. So I had to search for him."

Emmon Frey smiled while Gerion, who returned from his own adventure outright laugh:

"Of course he got lost, he is so small!"

"Not that small, Uncle."

Lady Lynesse nodded. She knew that Tyrion wasn't small at all.

"My lords, I am very happy to have you in my house. You can stay here for as long as you want."

Gerion answered:

"We wouldn't want to abuse your hospitality. We will leave in a few days towards Volantis, our final stop on the road to Valyria."

"I see. Well, I am at your disposal, for anything you need!"

"Me too."

Tyrion winked at the Hightower lady.


	8. A Child For Another Child

Tyrion sat on a bench in the garden of Tregar Ormollen, pondering upon the last days. While the sun was up, he visited Lys and the nearby villages, covering almost the entire island. At night, however, he was the toy of Lady Hightower, who took an unnatural interest in him. She would whisper in his ear that her sister was a fool not to marry him, as he is a god walking among men. He felt flattered by it and the experiences were far more than pleasurable but he couldn't help but fear that during one of those couplings his seed will eventually bear fruit and Lynesse would become pregnant. How ironic would it be: a dwarf to father a son or a daughter upon a Hightower! What kind of child would it be? A tall one with the face of a dwarf, or a small one with the face of a normal man? The thoughts frightened Tyrion. He wasn't ready to be a father and he didn't want to be a father, to further the cursed line of Tywin Lannister. Life was hard for a bastard. On the _Lion_ , he befriended Jason Hill, one of the bastard sons of Lord Brax who said that there were times when he was a child that he wished he would fall on his own sword. Tyrion's dark thoughts were interrupted by his uncle, Gerion.

"What's the matter, nephew? You are bored already of fucking that Hightower woman?"

"That woman is mad. Luckily for us, we will leave tomorrow. I hope Volantis is less crazy than Lys."

"I wouldn't say that Lady Lynesse is mad. She is rather… complicated."

"Complicated? She sucks cock like she is eating grapes, with pleasure and desire."

"Maybe her carnal desires are just her way of coping with everything. Think about it, Tyrion: she married young, a man she deeply loved but whose life was too complicated and his culture too foreign for her to adapt. And then, they were exiled and now, she has to live with that old fart in order to keep the level of luxury she was accustomed with. I am not saying she is some kind of an angel but she is a victim, a victim of her own miserable life."

"Tsk, you should have become a septon."

"Faith is not for me, especially not in beings that I don't know if they exist."

"Well, isn't just that the purpose of faith? To make you believe in things that don't exist?"

"That's the bad kind of faith. There is a good type of faith too."

"And that is?"

"Well, it can't really be defined, but you will certainly feel it, the moment it would enter your heart."

"Yes… And, did you speak with Garon?"

"I spoke with him some time ago. Tomorrow, we will leave Lys and sail towards Volantis."

"Volantis… I am curious about that temple we spoke about on the ship. The one of the Lord of Light. Do you think we can visit it while in Volantis?"

"Of course. The temple is open to everyone. Why are you so curious?"

"Well, think about it. A religion whose priests are warriors as capable as Thoros of Myr… It is something interesting, no? And Thoros is a fat drunk. If a fat drunk can move like that and fight like he is possessed by Aemon the fucking Dragonknight himself, imagine how other, younger and fitter priests can be?"

"You're right. And not just their priests. The red priestesses also possess strange powers. Maesters think that they are some kind of parlor tricks, just illusions created by plants and queer infusions but I think it's something more. We will go there when we arrive."

"Thank you, uncle."

"You know, nephew, this journey is the best thing that happened to you."

"Why, because I killed an entire pirate crew with poison?"

"Well, you said it yourself, you had to do it. Otherwise… But that's not the point. The point is you really matured… for an Imp."

Tyrion smiled. He was happy his uncle acknowledged him but he didn't feel very proud of himself. He poisoned men on the ship, then he became the sexual toy of Lady Hightower. Certainly there was a change in him, but he wasn't sure if it is a change in good.

That evening, the entire household was present at the farewell feast in the honor of the Westerosi nobles. Tyrion, Gerion and Emmon were there with Tregar Ormollen, his wife, Lady Searra, their son and of course, the prince's concubines, the most prominent of them being Lynesse Hightower. Lady Searra was the only daughter of a Sealord of Braavos who wanted to secure an important trading contract between his city and Lys so he proposed to Tregar's father that their children should be united in matrimony. Like their counterparts from the Seven Kingdoms, the nobles from the Free Cities appreciated the value of a good arranged marriage. Tregar and Searra would have one son but their life together was miserable with her husband having, as many of the Lysene princes, an entire entourage of women, from all the corners of the known world, at his disposal. Seven of those could be considered as the most valued "guests" of prince Tregar: Dorrah was a young noblewoman from Qarth who was captured and sold into slavery by the Dothraki. Tregar bought her and freed her and she remained at his palace. Naira was an exotic presence hailing from the Basilisk Isles. A well-known courtesan and paramour who shared the bed of many important people, ranging from Braavosi Sealords and Volantene Triarchs to Summer Isles princes or Westerosi lords, Naira was intelligent and seductive. Nyrriana was from Lys and was considered one of the most beautiful women in the known world. Her great-grandmother was a daughter of Daemon Blackfyre and Nyrriana possessed strong Valyrian features such as deep purple eyes and blond, almost white, hair. Urrith was from Lorath and her greatest wish since childhood was to leave her bleak city and see the world. She worked as a whore in a Lysene pleasure house until Tregar found her and brought her to his manse. The fifth woman was Margret Toyne. A descendant of the exiled Westerosi House of Toyne, Margret was the youngest daughter of Milos Toyne, the brother of Myles Toyne, the captain of the Golden Company known as the Blackheart. Another woman in this panoply of beauties was probably the most mysterious. Her name was Melia and she claimed she was from Asshai. Tregar was very interested in her, as Asshai'i were mysterious people and the only ones he ever saw were merchants. The seventh, of course, was the sword enemy of Lady Searra, Lynesse Hightower. All of them were present at the feast, all of them looking incredible. Tyrion was mesmerized by those ladies, with whom he didn't have much opportunities to talk during his staying at Tregar's mansion. But his thoughts quickly changed as he started to focus on the journey ahead, to Volantis.

"So, you are sailing tomorrow towards Volantis, right?"

"Yes, prince Tregar."

"Well, I must say I am very sad to see you leave. You have been the best of guests for me this period of time. How long do you plan to stay there?"

Gerion answered:

"Not long, a few days, perhaps. Then… unto the Smoking Sea."

Those final two words sent shivers to Tregar's spine. Many sailors from Lys tried to reach Valyria and plunder the city of its riches only to disappear, never to be heard from them again.

"Pardon me for asking, Lord Gerion, but how do you even know that the Brightroar is in Valyria? Maybe it was lost in the sea or in one of the Free Cities the lion king visited."

Tyrion took over the conversation:

"Well, the legend says that Tommen Lannister's golden fleet reached Volantis and one of the Triarchs, a man named Marqelo, helped him with ships and men. So, he must have been in the possession of the sword at that moment."

"Indeed? I must congratulate you for knowing history so well, mine is quite rusty."

"It's not like you need much history to count money, isn't it, Prince Tregar?"

"That it is, Lord Tyrion. Let's drink, shall we? You must taste this Lysene wine, it's incredible!"

Tyrion drank from the golden cup in front of him. The taste of the wine was exquisite. One thing could be said about his stay at Tregar's manse, it wasn't without its share of delicious wines. The party continued and, around midnight, Tyrion decided to leave for his room while Gerion and Emmon continued to eat and drink. In his room, he started to feel a bit tired and, after a few more moments, he started to vomit.

 _What… is wrong with me?_

He shook terribly, holding one hand on his abdomen and the other on his chest. The burning pain was tremendous and his consciousness started to fade.

 _Poison?_

Of course, how could he be so stupid? Did he expect the proud prince Tregar to allow him to bed his most esteemed concubine without paying for it? Poison was the Lysene way to deal with such nuisances. Tyrion would die without seeing the Long Bridge of Volantis, the Smoking Sea and the ruins of Valyria. Such a shame… He opened his eyes and he saw only darkness and he could hear only a tiny voice singing. Was he in some sort of heaven? But heaven wouldn't be dark. Is he now blind? That would be worse than being dead. The Blind Imp. It sounded awful. However, the darkness would soon dissipate and in front of him, a city would unfold, with tall buildings and towers.

 _Am I hallucinating?_

He could only distinguish one building, one large castle that stood high above all the other homes and shops in the city, one he was very familiar to.

 _The Red Keep… This is King's Landing?_

Darkness again. Why did he see King's Landing? But this darkness… He wanted to see the capital of Westeros again. As shitty a city it was, it was far better than seeing black. Tyrion almost begged for another light, and that light would come.

He saw a golden lion, proud and strong, holding a sword in his mouth with thousands of people bowing and kneeling before it, sitting on a hill. Tyrion looked into the valley. Another city, even larger than King's Landing, appeared in front of him, but he couldn't say which one. One thing was certain: it wasn't a Westerosi city. Golden towers, large walls and tranquil gardens adorned the city and Tyrion was at peace.

 _So, this is it… This is heaven, I guess? I am a lion and people love me and I rule an entire city? Far better than I deserve._

Darkness again. Why does it have to be darkness? Tyrion wanted to be lion again and to rule again but something else would unfold right before his eyes, something bright, red, hot but… pleasant, in some way.

 _Fire? This is fire?_

He tried to fight it, to get away from fire, but instead of going further from it, he got closer.

 _So, it's hell... Well, I guess I deserve it, after I killed those men._

It wasn't hell, but it wasn't heaven either. The voice he heard earlier finally had a face, a pale, blue eyed face. Tyrion awoken. He was in bed, in Tregar's manse and that face loomed above him, singing in an unknown language that sounded a bit like Valyrian but it wasn't really Valyrian. The imp recognized the woman, one of Tregar's concubines.

"Ugh… Who…?"

She continued to sing and, after taking out a knife, she stabbed herself in the palm of her hand. Her blood dripped on his abdomen and Tyrion was too powerless to stop it. Finally, she was starting to speak in the common tongue:

"Lord, cast your light above me and give me strength. The night is dark and full of terror and I seek to bring a pure heart back into the light. For he is your child and I am your loyal servant. A child for another child!"

Saying this, she took again her knife and stabbed herself again, this time in the belly. Tyrion watched horrified while she bled but, surprisingly, she didn't flinch one bit.

"Lord, cast your light above me and give me strength. You are the beacon that enlightens the hearts of men in the long night and I beg you, restore the flame of this dying child."

Suddenly, Tyrion vomited again, this time a black, foul bile. He suddenly felt warm inside and he was hungry. The woman who saved him fell on a chair nearby, gasping.

"You are lady…Melia… Why?"

"I am a servant of the Lord of Light, Tyrion Lannister. The one true God knows the destiny of each man in the world and each of us have our parts to play in the wars to come."

"The wars to come? What…?"

"The Lord deemed you worthy of his protection, Tyrion Lannister. A day will come when you have to repay his unending kindness. You must reach your destination. There, you must choose."

"Choose… what?"

"You will know at the right moment. You will never see me again."

The Asshai'i woman left the room and Tyrion remained speechless. He should have died, but that woman did… something to save him? Why? He got down from the bed and walked outside the room. A servant woman appeared in front of Tyrion.

"Do you speak the common tongue?"

"A bit, my lord!"

"Where is Lady Melia?"

"I don't know any lady Melia."

"What? She is one of Prince Tregar's women?"

"I am afraid you are mistaken, my lord. I am a… servant for the Prince's ladies but there isn't a Melia their midst."

"Oh… fine…"

Tyrion was shocked. What happened? For the entirety of the time he spent at Tregar's palace, they were seven, the Prince's paramours. But now, they are six? What happened? A man's voice was heard by Tyrion:

"Nephew, what are you doing? We will leave soon, or would you want to stay here in Lys while we sail to Valyria?"

"No… Gerion, tell me, did you know a Lady Melia, from Asshai? Is one of Tregar's women."

"Now I know why you left the banquet so early last night. You came here to fuck one of Tregar's wenches, right? But no, I don't know any of them to be from Asshai."

"Blue eyes, black hair, prays to the Lord of Light?"

"No, nephew. There isn't such a woman here."

"Uncle, she was here every day, you even talked with her a few times!"

"I don't know what you drank last night but certainly it didn't do any good to your health, Tyrion. All the days I've been here, I didn't see such a woman."

"Forget about it, let's go."

The Lannisters were ready to embark the _Laughing Lion_.

"It saddens me to see such great guests leaving. Maybe on your journey back, you shall visit me again."

"Of course, prince Tregar."

Tyrion frowned at the merchant prince while Lynesse Hightower smiled seductively.

"Goodbye, my lords and good fortune in your travels."

"We thank you!"

The _Lion_ exited the Lysene port. Captain Flowers and his men were ready and happy, singing a few shanties. Emmon Frey brought up the map to the cabin where Gerion and Tyrion were drinking.

"Now, we won't stop until we reach Volantis. I don't think that we will be as well received there as we were in Lys but we wouldn't stay too long, two-three days at most."

If by "well received" Emmon meant to say "poisoned", Tyrion was glad that the Volantene wouldn't treat them well. He didn't tell his uncles what happened with him because he considered they wouldn't believe him. A few hours later, Lys was only a tiny spot behind the _Lion_ and Tyrion started to ponder at the words of the woman who saved him.

 _What choice would I make?_


	9. The Poisoned Words of Frey

The sea was beautiful and peaceful and the only ships sighted by the crew of the _Lion_ were trading galleys. So, no pirates since those Tyrion killed. That put the dwarf at ease, and not only him but also his travelling companions. Emmon Frey approached him with a bottle of wine:

"Nephew, are you thirsty?"

"I am, Emm, but not of wine. I am thirsty of knowledge. Maybe you can enlighten me!"

"Well, ask away, nephew!"

"What do you think of prophecies and prophets in general?"

"I don't deny prophecies exist but the majority of them are just stories told to children to frighten them. Those which are real, however… The Targaryens named them dragon dreams, those mad fools."

"Well, they escaped the Doom of Valyria because of such dreams. Daenys the Dreamer led them to Dragonstone."

"And she wrote a book about them, _Signs and Portents_ , if I recall correctly. But the book was lost. Much knowledge was lost when the Targaryens were usurped."

"Usurped?"

"Yes, I know my beloved niece Cersei is queen now, by marrying Robert Baratheon, but the truth cannot be changed: for almost three hundred years, House Targaryen ruled the Seven Kingdoms and turned a divided realm into a stable, unified and powerful political entity. Before Aegon and his sisters arrived in Westeros, anyone could call themselves kings and convince others to go to war with them. Rock Kings, Storm Kings, River Kings, Winter Kings, each and every one of them sought to carve for themselves and their offspring bigger and bigger pieces of that lamprey pie Westeros was at the moment. But the Targaryens brought stability and progress. I am not saying they were perfect, but certainly they were far better than any other "king" before them."

Tyrion was surprised. He didn't expect his uncle Emmon to have such powerful feelings towards the Targaryens.

"That's quite a declaration, Emm."

"Well tell me, nephew, if any Greyjoy would have had the courage to rebel against the Iron Throne when a Targaryen was sitting on it."

"Dagon Greyjoy raided the Reach and…"

"Dagon Greyjoy did what any other ironborn raider would do: raid. He didn't rebel against the Iron Throne and he didn't call himself Salt King. He just raided more than the others before him. He defeated your lion ancestors and the Starks but when the Targaryens arrived, he returned to the Iron Islands, tail between his legs."

"That's true but what about the Mad King? Or Aegon the Fourth? Or Maegor the Cruel?"

"Aerys went mad after he was kidnapped and held prisoner at Duskendale. King Aegon wasn't mad, but a glutton and a lecherous pervert. As for Maegor, he wasn't mad, just violent and domineering and if it wasn't for him, we would have lived under the yolk of the Faith and their seven-faced god. Maegor put an end to that. Baelor the Blessed on the other hand, was insane. Naming a child as the High Septon, fasting for months, imprisoning his own sisters into the Maidenvault."

"Yes, Baelor was mad."

"You see, in every basket full of apples, there would be always a rotten one. One of my ancestors, Lord Harris Frey, liked to smell his own shit. He would stay for hours with his nose inside the privy absorbing that foul stench. See, madness, but that doesn't mean that every Frey is like that."

"So you descend from a shit smeller? Interesting."

"That's not the point. Every one of us have the potential for greatness or madness. Sometimes, greatness can't come without madness."

"You can't say that House Frey is that great but, you are right. Certainly, the Targaryens were different, much different than the other nobles of Westeros."

"Exactly. So, in a few days, we will reach Volantis. And then? Off to the Smoking Sea?"

"Yes, but firstly I want to visit that R'hllor temple they have in the city."

"It is said to be three times bigger than the Sept of Baelor. Very interesting, indeed. I will come with you."

"Of course."

Tyrion and Emmon continued to talk about history, the people of the past and what lies before them in Volantis. The Temple of R'hllor, the Long Bridge, the Black Walls and of course the Merchant's House, the largest inn in the city. The imp decided that throughout this journey, he would never accept the invitation to live in some noble's palace again. He would rather sleep on the _Lion_ , in his cabin. The dusk was almost upon them. Tyrion went to the back of the ship to watch the setting sun, thinking at the events that transpired in Lys. Who was that woman that nobody seemed to remember, except him? Soon, the moon appeared on the sky and, as it got colder, Tyrion returned to his cabin and his books. That night, he decided he will read _The Wandering Wolf_ , a book written by a maester in service of House Stark about the adventures of one of its members, Rodrik Stark. The sixth son of Lord Beron Stark, Rodrik was a brash and rebellious man with a great taste for battle and even more for sex. Even though he was married and had two daughters, his urges made him travel across the Narrow Sea and join the Second Sons sellsword company, fighting in the Disputed Lands for almost five years. There, he fathered countless bastards and he was said to bed men too. He was quite different from his Stark brethren, as they are so focused on honor and tradition, suppressing their innermost desires. The Wandering Wolf chose to live his life as he saw fit, just like Tyrion tries now. Maybe he will join a sellsword company one day, but what would he do there? He is not a warrior. Maybe he will cook, even though he never tried. He read about cooking though.

It was late and Tyrion wanted to sleep. He put the book down and closed his eyes when suddenly, he heard noise outside. He left the cabin and went straight for the upper deck. There, Tyrion saw his uncles arguing with more than two thirds of the crew.

"We aren't sailing into the fuckin' Smoking Sea!"

"What? How dare you? You knew from the beginning our destination. Now you double cross us? Why?"

"Who the fuck would want to go to their deaths in the Smoking Sea? You will die here and we will live like pirates preying on ships in the narrow sea."

The crew's mutineers were led by a sailor from Lannisport named Tom. Tyrion believed that their revolt was their plan from the beginning, to have the nobles killed and then return home. Gerion tried to reason with them:

"Think about what you are doing. I understand your anger, much has happened since we left Lannisport. End your mutiny now and by the Old Gods and the New I will forgive you. I would blame it on the heat and the wine and the tension and be done with it. But if you kill us, nobody will spare you the horrendous pain that will await you in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Fuck you and fuck the Seven Kingdoms. It's not worth it! We already lost one of our men and pirates almost took the ship! And all of this on the fucking narrow sea? But the Smoking Sea? At least we will live like kings, sailing as far as the Basilisk Isles plundering and all that."

Tyrion could understand their reasoning but there was another question in his mind:

"Why now? You could have left us in Lys and take the ship back to Westeros. Why now, when we are so close?"

"Because Lys is close to Westeros, dwarf. If the _Lion_ would have returned to Westeros, then Lord Tywin would have wanted to know your fates. We would say to him that Ser Gerion and Ser Emmon and Lord Tyrion died during a storm and then what? You would have returned and we would hang as traitors and liars? At least we kill you now, far from the Seven Kingdoms!"

Tom was more intelligent than Tyrion thought. As he saw it, only the captain Garon Flowers and several other sailors, including Jason Hill would be loyal. But they were outnumbered two to one. Gerion is a good fighter and Emmon is an anointed knight, even though he didn't have a proper fight in thirty years but him? Tyrion has no art for fighting.

"Gentlemen, please, let's calm down. I have an idea, one that would spare you the misery that will await you if you kill us and it would also spare our lives. What if you sail the ship to Volantis and leave us there? You would leave us enough money to buy a new ship and to hire men to sail it and you can keep the _Lion_ and go pirating and whatnot!"

Tom laughed and the mutineers followed:

"Do you take us for fools, dwarf? You would return to the Seven Kingdoms and tell your father what we did here and we will hang. Ten ships would be sent for us to take us alive and bring us back to Lannisport. No, death is what awaits you!"

Tyrion was sweating. The man was simply unmoved by his negotiation skills.

"Wait, wait! What do you want in exchange for our lives?"

"What could you possibly offer us, imp?"

Emmon Frey was silent the entire time but he had an idea:

"If you spare us and leave us in Volantis, I would have you knighted. Each of you will be a Ser. Then I will write you a letter that you would give my father, Lord Walder Frey. You would become knights sworn to the Twins, in the Riverlands, a respectable position. Better than being, you know, raiders."

Some of the mutineers smiled, thinking that a knighthood is the best think they could achieve in life. Others frowned. Tom looked Emmon Frey straight in the eyes:

"And how would we explain your absence, Ser Emmon?"

"I will say in the letter that we are in Volantis and that we require aid from Westeros, so we sent you, Ser Tom."

 _Ser Tom_. The sailor liked the sound of it. He gathered the mutineers and all of them agreed that this was the best of solutions.

"We agree. Swear to us right now, by your honor as a knight, that you will keep your promise!"

"I swear, by my honor as a knight. But I will keep my promise only after we are safe in Volantis."

"Agreed. But on one condition: I am the new captain of the _Lion_."

Garon Flowers looked very angry but he knew that he couldn't outmatch the mutineers in a fight.

"Fine, go ahead, be fuckin' captain!"

The nobles, as well as the noble bastards from the ship were confined to the supply room below deck. Tyrion, Emmon, Gerion, the former captain Garon, Jason Hill, Mervyn Hill and the bastard of Bitterbridge, Rodrik Flowers, the one known as the White Centaur. Tom probably thought that as they had noble blood in their veins, they would take Gerion's side.

"So, Emm, do you really plan on making them knights?"

"Of course. I gave them my word."

Gerion sighed:

"Fucking traitorous cowards. I gave each of them a king's ransom in gold and they did what? Betrayed us!"

The White Centaur agreed:

"Indeed. I sailed with many crews in my life and on each ship there is a man like Tom, ambitious, wanting to rise beyond his station. There was this man from Qohor, black of hair and black of heart, named Tokhar, that killed the captain of our ship and then left me and three others to die on a bloody island in the Jade Sea. If it wasn't for the YiTish, I would have died."

Tyrion asked:

"I never saw a YiTish. How are they?"

"Well, those that inhabit Yi Ti have bright eyes and weird hats and all of them have yellow skin. Nice people if you get to know them, deadly people if you become their enemy. They have a great wine, though. I swore I would never die until I taste that wine from the Mountains of the Morn again."

"Well, if Tom decides to kill us, you will certainly break your vow."

Mervyn Hill sighed:

"How the fuck can you think of wine right now?"

"And in your opinion, should we think of what?"

"I don't know, an escape? What makes you think Tom will keep his word? Soon as we reach Volantis, he will wait for Ser Emmon to write that letter and then he will kill us!"

"We don't know that and besides, I will ask for a Volantene nobleman to be witness to the knighting. We will be fine."

"As you say."

A few days later, the _Laughing Lion_ entered the great port of Volantis. Many people, ranging from slaves to nobles gathered there. Not every day a Westerosi Great House's flagship arrives in their city. Captain Tom descended below deck with three of his men to release the Lannisters, Emmon and the bastards from their cell.

"We've arrived. Knight us, Ser Emmon, write your letter and you are free to go."

"Just like that? Without witnesses? Let's go on shore and do it properly."

The entire _Lion_ crew was in the harbor and many citizens of Volantis witnessed the moment. It was unusual for them to assist to a knighting ceremony so it was something unique and memorable. All the mutineers were on their knees, waiting for Emmon to say the words.

"Well… In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women. In the name of the Crone, I charge you to be wise. In the name of the Smith, I charge you to work tirelessly for the betterment of others. In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to cherish all life and only strike when needed. Rise, Sers, as knights."

The newly made knights arose:

"Now, write the letter for your father, Ser Emmon."

"Yes, but I have no paper here. All of it is on the _Lion_."

"Bodd, go and fetch some paper for Ser Emmon."

"Ser Tom, I'll go myself to procure the paper. There are also some personal effects of mine in the cabin that I wish to take and I prefer not to have anyone touching my items."

"As you wish."

Emmon returned on the Lion and, after a while, returned with a large suitcase and with sheets of paper. He then proceeded to write the letter, as promised and, after reading it out loud, he sealed it with the sigil of House Frey, the bridge.

"Here, after you arrive in King's Landing, go straight for the Twins. My lord father will be more than happy to have you in his service. Everyone knows that the Frey hospitality and loyalty are beyond doubt."

Tom took the letter from the thin hands of Emmon Frey.

"Ser Tom, give the letter to each of your men to see the seal and witness the fact that is original. I would not want to be accused of forgery or something else."

The letter was passed from one hand to another and every newly anointed knight saw the bridge of House Frey. After that, it was returned to Tom.

"Well, that concludes our business. Now, lads, let's find some whores and bring them to the ship! We will start sailing in the morning for Westeros. I want to reach the Twins faster."

Gerion, Emmon and Tyrion were left on the shore, accompanied by Garon Flowers and the other loyal sailors. Only twenty of them remained. They went straight for a tavern, called the Harlot's Embrace, a cheap and dirty brothel full of drunken sailors and merchants. Inside, an old woman greeted them:

"Welcome, welcome to the Harlot's Embrace, best inn and brother this side of the Rhoyne."

Gerion spoke:

"Thank you. I must say, your common tongue is excellent. Are you by any chance from the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Nay, I am a pure bred Volantene. But in my line of work, knowing various tongues helps. Dothraki, Valyrian, even the tongue of Westeros. Makes my establishment classy."

Tyrion looked around and said:

"Well, it is an extraordinary place. It rivals those in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Thank you, but enough with the small talk, what do you wish to order? Wine, food… girls, maybe? Or boys? The choice is yours!"

"Wine, a lot of wine!"

"Coming!"

The Westerosi group sat in one corner of the tavern, waiting for the wine. There, they started to analyze their situation.

"We are without ship, without gold and without a crew. With twenty men, you cannot crew a ship big enough to go to Valyria with it. Even though they are twenty good men, it's just like this."

"I know, Captain Flowers. But maybe we can ask the local nobility for help. They could be willing to provide some resources to one of the most powerful House of Westeros. Just like in the past, when Tommen Lannister arrived here."

"Nephew, Tommen had the entire Golden Fleet with him. The Triarchs helped him for gold, not from the kindness of their hearts. We now have shit."

Emmon Frey stared at his good-brother and nephew and a smile formed on his mouth.

"What?"

"Well, we might actually have something of value. Gold and a ship."

"I don't know you are a warlock, Emm. Did you turned the shit we have into gold and a ship without us even noticing? You are so talented!"

"Laugh all you want. We still have the _Lion_ and the gold inside it."

"The _Lion_ , if you don't remember, is now Tom's. No, actually, is Ser Tom."

"Not anymore."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Emmon. You heard those cunts, they will depart in the morning for Westeros with our ship and with our gold!"

"Like I said, not anymore. Ah, here is our wine. Took you long enough!"

"Well, my lord, as you can see, the clientele here is very impatient and very thirsty so I have to serve all of them."

Tyrion looked at a Lorathi trader with green colored hair who was sucking a slave's cock right in the middle of the tavern without anyone even acknowledging the act.

"I see, people here are quite… thirsty."

"Ah, the beautiful lad over there is Mirrhuz, loved by every pillow biter from Bear Island to the Saffron Strait. He can spill his seed over a ten feet distance."

"Interesting. Can you give us our wine?"

"Of course!"

Emmon was strangely very cheerful:

"Bottoms up, boys. After another round, let's go to the _Lion_."

"To do what, be captured by those mutineers? Are you mad, my lord?"

"No, Garon. I gave you back your ship and you call me mad?"

"How did you give me back my ship? It's full of traitors in the middle of the harbor."

"No, Garon. It is full of dead traitors in the middle of the harbor. I suppose dead traitors are easier to remove from the _Lion_ than living, breathing ones, aren't they?"

"Wait, what? They're dead?"

Emmon Frey smiled:

"Well, I'm not proud of it but your trick, nephew, with those awful Lysene pirates was quite… inspiring for me. I realized that the sea around Volantis would be far more dangerous than the narrow sea so I bought a certain substance from Lys. The peddler who sold it to me said that it takes very quickly for it to do its work."

"Poison…"

Tyrion was shocked. He killed an entire crew now his uncle Emmon does the same? It's beyond belief.

"Emmon, you witty fuck. And how did you expose the traitors to the poison?"

"Well, there is a saying in Westeros that, you know, every word that exits a Frey's mouth is poison. A metaphor. Now, it's not metaphoric anymore."

"The letter… you coated the letter with the poison. This is why you had every one of them touch it."

"Very well, nephew. You are very smart."

Gerion couldn't believe that his good-brother, the weak willed Emmon was capable of such scheme.

"But if did this, you must have done it while you were gathering your items from the _Lion_. You wrote the letter on the shore, so you must have entered in contact with it too. How are you still alive?"

Emmon took a small vial from the pocket of his doublet.

"This is the only known antidote. A drop of it and it cancels the poison's effects. I took it after I knighted those fools. So I am safe. They are not."

"In the name of R'hllor, you are one smart person, Ser Emmon. Let's go to the _Lion_."

"Stay here, Garon. Me and the others will go for the gold. We have to pay for our drinks."

"Absolutely."

Tyrion and his uncles left the Harlot and went straight for the _Laughing Lion_. On the ship, they saw more than forty sailors on the ground, dead, with blood in their mouths. The letter was in Tom's hand. Emmon picked it up with a piece of cloth and threw it overboard. Gerion laughed:

"Well, I'm now the only one here who didn't poison sailors. I should rectify this the next time I've got an opportunity."

"Enough with those japes. These were men and I killed them. I had to do it and I would do it again, but do not think for one moment that I enjoyed it."

"Sorry, Emmon. I thought I should ease up the tension."

"Now, let's get some gold. Much of it. We'll need it to hire sailors for the ship."

"And who would be foolish enough to go with us to Valyria?"

"Well, if we cannot hire free men to help, we should buy some slaves. The Volantene peddle them like fruit merchants peddle apples so…"

"For fuck's sake, Uncle. Enough that we are killers, now we will be slavers too?"

"To reach Valyria, I would enslave the fucking Black Goat of Qohor. At least the slaves don't have horns!"

Tyrion didn't like this, but at least the _Lion_ was back in their possession. He then remembered the Asshai'i woman who saved his life and what she said.

 _I must choose something at some point. But it seems my choices are always ending in blood. What should I do? I can't back down now, as much blood has been spilled in the name of this damned expedition. I will go to that temple here in Volantis. Maybe there I would find some answers._


	10. The Call Of R'hllor

The Temple of R'hllor in Volantis was said to be three times bigger than the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing but for Tyrion looked as big as the Red Keep itself. A fortress of towers, bridges, columns and statues, the temple was massive and left the Imp speechless. Inside, the main hall was full to the brim with slaves, noblemen and soldiers who listened to the songs and the prayers of the priests. In front of them stood a burning heart made of stone and another priest knelt before it. The man's skin was pale as milk with red tattoos in the shape of flames around his eyes. His voice boomed across the temple, speaking in Valyrian:

" _The night is dark and full of terrors. But do not fear! R'hllor, the Lord of Light, knows all and sees all. He knows your pain, your tragedies. He knows the burden of the slave, the misery of the poor, the greed of the rich. Nothing is secret from our Lord! He peers inside our hearts with burning eyes and his flames illuminate our souls! If inside your hearts lies tempest, he will calm it! If inside your hearts lies pain, he will sooth it! If inside your hearts lies hatred, he will quench it. Let the Lord inside you, to be remade by him into agents of good!_ "

Tyrion understood pretty much all of what the priest said, as he had time to study Valyrian in detail while travelling. He was impressed by the impact the priest had on the audience. Everyone in the temple was listening and some of them were weeping. Either this religion was the biggest lie in the known world or it was truly something that brought peace in the hearts of men. Emmon Frey, who accompanied Tyrion, was also impressed. None of the septons he knew in Westeros could work a crowd as well as the red priests. After the religious service, people started to leave the temple. A few of them remained to talk to some of the priests. Tyrion wished to talk to the pale one but before he could ask one of the others, the man approached him.

"Tyrion of House Lannister of Casterly Rock and Emmon of House Frey of the Crossing. Am I correct?"

The priest spoke the Common tongue almost perfectly, with only a bit of an accent.

"Yes… yes! And you are…?"

"I am many things to many people. For you, I am Benerro, the Light of Wisdom and the Flame of Truth, First servant of the Lord of Light and Slave of R'hllor. I am the high priest of this Temple!"

"Then maybe you can answer some questions for me, your excellency!"

"Depends on the questions, Lord Tyrion. Come to my chambers, alone. What am I going to say to you is for your ears only! No disrespect, Lord Emmon!"

Emmon could only nod, as the allure of the priest almost paralyzed him. Benerro's eyes descended upon the little lord:

"Come with me!"

The two climbed a large staircase to the second floor and Benerro invited Tyrion into one of the rooms. A large chamber, with a view of the city and a lot of small, heart shaped statues in it, the Imp assumed that it was the priest's office.

"Not many people from outside the clergy are invited here!"

"So I can consider myself to be honored?"

"Maybe. But I don't think you came here seeking to be honored. You came here for answers. To what questions?"

Tyrion told Benerro what happened with the pirates, how he was saved by a practitioner of the Lord of Light's religion in Lys and his desire to reach Valyria. The priest only listened, without opening his lipless mouth even once. After Tyrion ended his tale, Benerro smiled:

"Well… It seems to me that I was right about you!"

"You…did?"

"The moment you entered this temple I knew that you are someone special. Only a few people are chosen by the Lord to become his champions."

"Me, to be a champion for R'hllor? I am not even a believer!"

"That doesn't matter. The Lord chose you not for your fervor. For that, he has his red priests. He chose you for your kind heart and for your capacity to differentiate good and evil!"

"Were you not listening? I killed men! I poisoned them and I watched them die! I am not a kind man!"

"You did what you had to do to survive and to continue your journey. Consider that a… test from the Lord! A test you passed. This is why you are important for the balance!"

"The balance?"

"You see, every notion in this world has an opposite. Light has darkness, land has water, life has death… But more importantly, good has evil. Indeed, the world can be viewed as a battlefield between good and evil."

"And this… good… is represented by your Lord of Light, of course!"

"It is. The Lord is a benevolent one. But even he cannot disrupt the balance of nature. Evil chooses to do so, trying to bend the forces of nature for its purposes. That's why it must be stopped!"

"Do you really think that evil can be stopped?"

"Well, Lady Melia did stop the evil that was destroying you, didn't she?"

"Yes, but… why? And why nobody in Tregar's manse remembered her?"

"Why should they remember her? She completed her task. Her presence wasn't needed anymore."

"You are saying that her sole purpose there was to save me?"

"Hmm… Do you know why there are no children in Asshai?"

"I do not know. Westerosi don't know many things about Asshai. We know only legends told in whispers and stories from the merchants who visit the city but other than that…"

"I see. Well, to answer my question, you have to remember how Lady Melia saved you. What did she do?"

"She… It was very blurry but… She stabbed herself in the belly. She said _A child for another child_. She said prayers to the Lord of Light…"

"Good! So, now back to my question. Do you know why there are no children in Asshai?"

Tyrion froze. It was more disturbing than he could ever imagine!

"They… use their unborn children for blood magic rituals…"

"Exactly. An unborn child is innocent, clean from impurity and other blemishes that life would inflict on him. Warlocks and shadowbinders use this to prolong their lives. Imagine that a woman is pregnant with a child that would live, let's say, fifty years. If she uses her child for the life-prolonging ritual, she would add another fifty years to her life. The oldest sorcerers in Asshai are thousands of years old. Imagine how many children they must have sacrificed!"

Tyrion was completely shocked by this revelation. A life must pay for another life… This is too cruel!

"What are you saying is… completely absurd. If the Lord of Light is good, why would he allow this to happen? Why would he want the life of an unborn baby?"

"He doesn't want this. But like I said, the balance must be kept between light and darkness. For example, you! You would've died in Tregar's mansion but the shadowbinder brought you back to life. Your life was already forfeited to the darkness. But she snatched you from the shadow and brought you back into the light. But the shadow had to claim another, to take your place!"

"So… it was not just those pirates I killed, but an unborn baby too?"

"The baby was killed by the shadowbinder, not by you. And like I said, a balance must be kept. Without it, there would be chaos!"

"Also… when the…shadowbinder brought me back to life, while I was unconscious, I had a… dream? Vision? I saw King's Landing. And then, a city so beautiful that I almost wanted to remain there forever! And then fire…"

"Well, the visions the Lord deem to give to a man can only help that man. You need to find your own answers on that account and to choose!"

"The shadowbinder told me to choose as well. What choice would I need to make?"

"The choice is not mine to take and to know about. You will find your answers, I've no doubt about that. Like I said, since you entered this most sacred Temple, I sensed something in you. You will bring much change to this world, Lord Tyrion."

"With all due respect, your excellency, but I don't buy this. I don't believe this _Chosen One_ shit. That woman saved my life with some parlor trick and nothing more. If she really sacrificed her baby to save me, she is clearly fucked up in the head."

"I suppose you are unaccustomed with the inner workings of magic, Lord Tyrion? You must be, as magic died long ago in Westeros. Your maesters saw to that. Since the death of the dragons, the Sunset Continent lost its source. Surely, one could argue and say that those trees your Northmen are praying to have a magic of their own but I highly doubt it that it's active. But here in Essos, there are other magical sources. Darkness, light, wind, water…"

"Unborn babies."

"Indeed. Ah, enough with the theory. Let's do something a little more practical. See that brazier over there?"

Benerro pointed towards a small brazier burning with a green flame.

"Its power will allow me to see your future, if you let me!"

Tyrion was skeptical. He should have known better than try to find answers in a religious temple, but it was an experience so he accepted. The last time someone did a reading on him was a year back when a witch from Lannisport told him that he would marry the most beautiful lady in the realm. He immediately knew she was lying. But even Tyrion, as cynical and skeptical as he was couldn't argue with the fact that whatever Lady Melia did to him in Lys, it worked. So maybe this priest could help him.

"Good, so now what?"

"I would need a bit of hair from you, Lord Tyrion!"

Benerro cut a few strands of hair from Tyrion's head with a pair of scissors and put them into the brazier. After this, he murmured a prayer to the Lord of Light and looked straight into the flame.

"So, what do you see?"

"You won't find a sword in Valyria, Lord Tyrion. You will find a crown."

"A crown… Maybe I will find grumkins and snarks too."

"You laugh but it's the truth… Also…"

"What?"

"I see a pride of lions ruling their land with an iron fist. They dominated every other animal in their forest. They hunted down the stags and killed the wolves but… I see a lion cub tearing the alpha lion's throat. The pride will scatter all across the world. But the lion cub remains. He will persevere! He will suffer tremendously into doing so, however. There will be times when he will feel all alone but he will find friends that would help him… a spider… a bear… a dragon even!"

"Now I'm a lion cub? You couldn't make me something a little cuter, like a kitten? And what about the dragon? Will it massage my mane?"

"Laugh all you want. This is your destiny, my lord. And know this: every red priest in this world will help you through this ordeal. We are your friends. And to prove it…"

Benerro clapped his hands and a young blond woman, with blue eyes and dressed with a long, silky red robe entered the High Priest's office:

"Your excellency!"

"Lord Tyrion, her name is Aerea of Braavos. She will accompany you on your journey to Valyria, only if you let her. Consider her a trusted ally!"

"My lady… I would be honored but you know how sailors are, especially Westerosi ones… They consider women on board to bring bad luck…"

Aerea laughed:

"Lord Tyrion, I only bring good tidings and even better luck! Don't worry, they will accept me! You have no maester on board and I am specialized in healing arts!"

"Well, in that case…"

After another discussion with Benerro, this time a more philosophical one, Tyrion and Aerea left the Temple alongside Emmon who didn't find many answers for his own questions.

"Tell me, my lady, as you are from Braavos, I suppose you frown upon slavery. My uncle Gerion hopes to buy slaves to man the ship throughout the Smoking Sea. Would that be a problem?"

"It won't be! You do what you have to do! A man should use everything he has in his hand to do the work of the Lord of Light!"

"Your enthusiasm is encouraging, Lady Aerea. But aren't you a bit afraid of our journey?"

"Ser Emmon, no man or woman in this world who has the Lord in her heart will ever be afraid of the Doom!"

"Well, don't count me among them. I am no religious man and certainly I am very afraid of the Doom!"

"Every man is what he is. The Lord doesn't try to change the nature of man, but to improve it. Is it wrong to stop feeling fear?"

Before Emmon could say another word, Tyrion replied:

"Well, fear is what keeps humans from going full speed in the jaws of danger. Oh, this is the _Laughing Lion_!"

Aerea was impressed with the Lannister ship. Even though it was not as large as the Volantene trading ships, it was much more beautiful, with sculptures and motifs and bright colors. Gerion Lannister was already aboard, accommodating his new _crewmates_.

"Uncle!"

"Tyrion, Emmon! Come up! Let's talk!"

The two noblemen and the red priestess walked on the ship.

"So, nephew, who is this exotic lady?"

The priestess blushed while the Westerosi part of the crew frowned.

"Well, she is lady Aerea, a priestess of R'hllor. She will accompany us on our journey to Valyria! She has healing abilities so, as we don't have a maester on board, I agreed to have her come with us!"

"Absolutely, I am delighted to meet you, milady!"

"Likewise, but please, call me by my name. I am no lady, I am a servant of the Lord of Light, therefore, I am your servant!"

"I didn't know my uncle is the Lord of Light!"

The noblemen laughed. Aerea giggled as well. Garon Flowers approached the priestess and bowed before her.

"This is our courageous captain, Garon Flowers, natural son of Lord Garth Sloane of Petal's Dusk. He is a follower of your religion."

"Oh, yes? There aren't many Westerosi who worship the Lord!"

"Many Westerosi didn't go through what I've gone through. The Lord helped me during those hard times. I am honored to have you on my ship. I swear to you that I would never let anyone on this ship hurt you, priestess!"

"So gallant! Thank you, captain."

"I'll show your quarters. Follow me, please!"

After Garon and Aerea left, Gerion started to laugh:

"I wager ten dragons that by the end of the month, they will fuck!"

"Uncle…"

"Fine. I knew you don't have the balls to wage against me…"

"Twenty for them fucking by the end of the week!"

"Great. That's more like it!"

Emmon Frey spoke:

"Where did you get those slaves, Gerion?"

"I went to the Triarch with five thousand dragons. He was more than happy to accommodate me and so, he gave me those fellows over there, though I believe he wanted to get rid of them more than I wanted to buy them. But for five thousand… I'll take what I get. Ah, I remembered…"

Gerion climbed over a large barrel and shouted:

"Who of you can speak the Common Tongue?"

A young boy approached him:

"Me… I speak Common Tongue."

"Are you Westerosi?"

"My mother is from a place called Riverlands in Westeros. My father is from Volantis. I have a lot of brothers and sisters so they sold me to the slaver!"

"I see… What's your name?"

"Ullo."

"Nice name. Now, Ullo, can you translate something for me? I want everyone on this ship to know something!"

"Yes, lord."

"My friends. Even though I bought you from a slaver, I want to tell you that on this ship, you are free men! Nobody will beat you, nobody will hurt you! If we manage to return from Valyria, I will give each and every one of you your weight in gold! Those of you who want to return to Volantis, will return as rich men, free men! Those who would follow me to the Seven Kingdoms, will become members of my honor guard!"

After Ullo translated, each slave started to shout _Kelio, Kelio_. Tyrion knew what that meant. It meant _lion_. The reputation of the Lannisters reached even the slave pits of Volantis. And everybody knew that a Lannister always pays his debt. Captain Garon returned and he started to shout orders, both in the Common tongue and in Valyrian:

"Lads, attention! We sail now for the Smoking Sea! I know many of you are afraid. I am afraid too. But imagine this! We will be heroes! Our names will be sung by poets and minstrels a thousand years from now! Here we are on this ship, this melting pot of cultures! We have men, women, Westerosi, Essosi, slaves, nobles, commoners, pillow biters, those born in the light of the Seven, those who accepted the fiery love of R'hllor, those who pray to the Black Goat, those who pray to the Pale Child, those who don't believe in no god. Here, that doesn't matter. What matters is that here, we are a family. We will help each other complete this task! May the Lord light our path…"


	11. The Lion And The Star

"Today, I couldn't stop thinking about Joy… Is she good? Is she well fed? Does she miss me?"

"I'm sure she misses you, Gerion. But imagine how she will react when she will see you home, Brightroar in hand!"

"Or when Tywin will inform her of my death at sea…"

"I can't believe I hear you say that. You of all people were the one without doubts and now?"

"Because, Emmon, back then we weren't so close to the Smoking Sea… Many things are said about this place!"

Aerea, the priestess of R'hllor agreed:

"Indeed. It is said that ships which enter the Smoking Sea and approaches Valyria are swallowed by the Doom, never to be found again. And whoever tries to reach the cursed city by land, would be devoured on the Demon Road."

Tyrion asked:

"The Demon Road?"

"Yes. A Valyrian road that unites Volantis with Mantarys and a few other ruined cities: Bhorash, Oros, Valad Hyum… All of them cursed places."

"Why is that?"

"Bhorash was a city built by slavers from Meereen more than one thousand years ago on the northern coast of the Slaver's Bay. It flourished until it was crushed by the Valyrians. It was said that after the Valyrian army destroyed the royal palace and its dragons burn the king's sons alive, he put a curse, out of hatred and anger. It is said that anyone who dares to enter Bhorash again will die in horrid pain."

"That's nice… And the others? Oros and Valad Hyum?"

Emmon Frey coughed:

"Well, Oros was a city of great opulence and glory, second only to Valyria itself. It was ruled by a group of twelve nobles from Valyria, six men and six women. Before the Smoking Sea was created, it was linked by roads to Tyria."

"Yes, Ser Emmon. And now, it is said that it's still populated… Maybe we will visit the city?"

"Priestess, with all due respect, are you out of your mind? It's not like we are going to Valyria to, I don't know, take a stroll through the ruins! We are on a mission, well, at least they are!"

He pointed to the two Lannisters. Aerea smiled at Ser Emmon:

"You are too! You are important to them and you saved your family in Lys. You still have your part to play in this endeavor."

"Now I'm some kind of a mummer? To play parts?"

Gerion laughed:

"Why, Emmon, you would be exceptional as an actor. Imagine yourself travelling all across the world spilling out of your mouth those words you speak to my sister: _Oh, my little flower, Oh, my little petunia, Oh, my summer rain_. I am sure that any housewife from the Lonely Light to Qarth would just wet themselves with pleasure seeing you on the stage!"

"Gerion, I'm sure you're aware that we are in the presence of a Lady!"

"I don't mind, my lords. I travelled a lot with seamen and soldiers. I am accustomed with rougher words."

"Oh, then why don't you sing us something, Emmon? He is very talented."

"Especially when he's singing obscene songs!"

Tyrion's remark made everyone on the ship laugh. Those who were from the _Lion_ 's initial crew remembered the night the Lysene pirates attack when Emmon's drunken songs revitalized the entire ship.

"Is that so? Then sing, Lord Emmon. Something… obscene!"

Emmon Frey frowned. He had no problem doing this with men but in the presence of a lady, he felt a little strange. But then again, the crew needed their morale to be lifted before entering the Smoking Sea. It was all or nothing.

"Fine, fine! I will sing to you the _Ballad of Lady Manderly_!"

He coughed before singing:

 _One night in White Harbor, a wedding took place_

 _The bride was so beautiful with a dress made of lace_

 _She loved her new husband with a fire-filled heart,_

 _But the only think he wanted was to ravish her cunt!_

 _The merman lord just wanted to bed his new wife_

 _The only thing he wished was to fuck her for life_

 _But the young lady was shy and religious and kind_

 _She had no evil thoughts, no perversions in mind_

 _The merman lord couldn't wait to take her to bed_

 _And with his huge trident would mess up her head_

 _Will make her wish just to be fucked in the ass_

 _Oh, how many things would he do to the lass_

 _The wedding was over and the bedding took place_

 _Lord Manderly just looked at his fair wife's little face_

 _He put her in bed and then blocked the door's lock_

 _For it was time for his wife to meet his huge cock._

 _"_ _Don't be afraid, my sweet, it's your responsibility_

 _I swear I will help you to fulfill it with dignity!"_

 _"_ _But, my lordly husband, I am so innocent and pure_

 _By the Seven, I can't even think of something so impure!"_

 _"_ _But you are now my wife, in body and in spirit,_

 _You will enjoy my trident, you need not to fear it!_

 _You are like a treasure, I can't contain my greed_

 _I'll take you, bend you over and fill you with my seed!_

 _Then you'll pray to the Seven, like the drowned men pray for air_

 _That my seed will quicken and you'll deliver me an heir!"_

 _With this, the merman lord entered his bride,_

 _His cock was inside her, he was so full of pride,_

 _Her moans were so loud and so full of glee_

 _That they were heard in Essos, across the narrow sea._

The part of the crew that understood the Common tongue were laughing, hearing the song. _The Ballad of Lady Manderly_ was a well-known song throughout the Seven Kingdoms, inspired by a lord named Gormont Manderly, a world-renowned lecher, who married a young Bracken lady brought to him from the Riverlands by his bastard brother, Rickard Snow. Lady Bracken was a pious and gentle young woman, trained by her septa to be chaste and obedient. However, Gormont Manderly, a man whose appetites were said to rival those of Aegon the Unworthy, wished to transform his wife into a debauched creature not unlike him. He managed to do so as in a few months after their wedding, it was rumored in White Harbor that Lord and Lady Manderly are sharing their matrimonial bed with some of the most famous courtesans in both Westeros and Essos, such as Madeline Cunt-of-Iron, the most resilient whore south of the Wall, Peggy Sixblesses, a whore from King's Landing who once finished six men at the same time or the man-whore Aegar of the Rhoyne, a descendant of a Targaryen bastard. Lady Aerea laughed too, finding the song quite witty and peculiar, despite its clearly bawdy words.

A few hours later, the night came and everyone was asleep except the night crew and Tyrion, who spent his hours reading. This time, he read _Commentaries on Daeron the Good's Reign_ , by Maester Volon. Daeron was, of course, the only trueborn son of Aegon the Unworthy and, surprisingly, the son he hated the most. Tyrion sympathized with Daeron, as he was hated himself by his own father, Lord Tywin. But unlike King Daeron the Second, who had his powerful half-siblings Brynden and Shiera at his side, Tyrion didn't have anyone. Jaime was good to him but he didn't spend much time at the Rock due to his status as a Kingsguard, Tygett was more than often absent due to his hatred of Tywin and Gerion was too self-absorbed and too focused on his whoring and pleasures in his youth. Of course, he couldn't count Kevan as his uncle was in the shadow of Tywin since the day he was born. Genna was the next best thing to a mother he and his siblings had. She was always there for him, never once accusing him of his mother's death like Tywin did. Suddenly, the door of his cabin opened and Lady Aerea entered:

"Lord Tyrion, may I come in?"

"Sure… I can't sleep so I could use the company!"

She smiled and joined him, sitting on a chair near his bed. Her smile was beautiful and she was very kind. Tyrion enjoyed the priestess of R'hllor's presence on the ship.

"So, my lord, what are you reading?"

"Um, just the _Commentaries on Daeron the Good's Reign_."

"Daeron the Good… Wasn't he the son of Aegon the Unworthy?"

"Yes, he was."

"And, as I recall, he warred with his bastard brother Daemon, who plunged Westeros in war and rebellion."

"Indeed, my lady. You know your history very well. Daeron the Good and his evil half-brother, Daemon Blackfyre."

She continued to smile but Tyrion couldn't help but notice her eyes. They were suddenly sad, and several tears were formed in them.

"What happened, Aerea? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not. It's just… this story always makes me emotional, that's all."

"How so?"

"Well… Daeron and Daenerys, the children of Aegon, had many other bastard siblings. But none of them were so important as the four which were to be remembered by history as the Great Bastards…"

"Daemon Waters, Aegor Rivers, Brynden Rivers and Shiera Seastar."

"Exactly."

"Excuse me, Aerea, but as I recall, Brynden's mother, Melissa Blackwood, had two other daughters with King Aegon, other two Great Bastards…"

"Mya and Gwenys. But they joined your Faith at a young age and disappeared from the history…"

Again, a certain sadness was in Aerea's eyes and voice:

"You called Daemon Blackfyre evil. I don't think he was evil. I think he was just… misguided. Of course, a traitor for the realm of Westeros but nevertheless… misguided."

"Yes, he was convinced to rebel by Aegor, the one they called…"

"The Bittersteel!"

Again, Aerea's eyes were glowing, this time not because of tears but because of rage. Tyrion immediately thought that it was a connection between Aerea and those historical figures. Maybe she was a descendant of one of the Blackfyres. She was quite the Blackfyre apologist. However, Tyrion's theory was pretty shaky as the mention of Aegor Bittersteel brought anger to the priestess.

"Yes… Bittersteel!"

"Bittersteel was a fool, a man driven only by fury and hatred towards his half-brother, Brynden."

"And by his love for Shiera."

"Hmm… do you think he ever loved her? Maybe he wanted to own her, like she was one of his prized warhorses. Aegor was possessive and extremely stubborn. He lacked Brynden's… humanity!"

Tyrion didn't know what to think. Clearly, Aerea knows a lot about these people from Westeros's past but when she spoke about the one people called Bloodraven, she spoke with… he didn't know what it was… passion? Respect? Desire?

"Humanity? I thought Brynden Rivers was a hated man in Westeros. An efficient and powerful administrator, true, but hated as a kinslayer and sorcerer."

"Of course he was hated. He killed his brother, Daemon, and his nephews, Aegon and Aemon, but… he did what needed to be done. He brought peace to Westeros. Sure, a tenuous peace but… Agh… I think I should go. Good night, Lord Tyrion."

"My lady, wait…"

"Yes?"

"About tomorrow… we will enter the Smoking Sea… Any advice?"

"Mmm… let's see… Trust in the Lord of Light, Lord Tyrion. You may not know, but the stars shine upon you even as we speak."

He smiled and, after she left, he thought at what she said… Then he realized…

"So the stars are really shining upon me…"


	12. Three Cities

The air was getting colder and colder by the minute. The wind was howling and the crew was as frozen by it just as they were frozen by fear. Ahead of the _Laughing Lion_ , the coastline was getting more and more visible, covered by weird trees, leafless and dead. Soon after, the mist started to descend and Garon Flowers found it almost impossible to use the far-eye to scout forward. Tyrion was inside his cabin, hearing the wind crackling outside. He was afraid too, not only for his life but also, he was afraid of finding the truth. The dwarf knew that many secrets were hidden all across the known world and some of them should remain so. They were also sailing blind, as no map or sailing charter they had described the Smoking Sea with great detail. The maps they bought in Lys and Volantis were also quite empty when showing that part of the Valyrian Peninsula. A question popped out in Tyrion's mind: how in the Seven Hells would they find the Brightroar when they didn't even know where to begin their search. He then left the cabin and joined his uncles on the upper deck of the ship. Gerion was fully equipped with his golden armor while Emmon Frey was dressed in his blue-grey fur coat. His bald head was wet with sweat but Tyrion knew it wasn't because of his uncle's coat but because of his fear.

"So… Here we are…"

"I don't know where we are. I can't see anything because of this damnable fog."

Garon Flowers approached the noblemen:

"It's not just you, Lord Gerion. I can't see anything either with the far-eye. For a moment, before this mist descended upon us, I thought I saw the coastline up front so I ordered the crew to slow down the ship. We can't risk hitting something along the way."

"This water is damned treacherous." Emmon said. "I think more ships have been lost here than anywhere in the world."

"Indeed. The western side of the sea is called by the Volantene sailors the _Water Tomb_."

"Such a jolly name."

The discussion was interrupted by one of the former slaves which was perched in the crow's nest:

"Land ahoy! To the starboard!"

Everyone looked towards the right side of the ship. There, a small island with what looked like green trees and strange ruins was sighted.

"What are we going to do, milord?"

Gerion Lannister closed his eyes for a moment and then said:

"Let's explore it. It would give us certain ideas about what we are going to find inland. Also, we should use this opportunity to map it and complete our charts."

"Of course, Lord Gerion. Men, sail towards the island!"

The _Lion_ was near the island. Green trees, some of which none of the people from the ship were unable to identify and also, more interestingly, a few ruins of what looked like temples and cities. The mist was also a bit thinner there. Gerion and the others started to plan their move:

"I'll take the boat and six men and row towards the beach. There, we will start exploring. If we don't return until midnight, I want you, Garon, to turn the ship back and return it to Westeros."

"Uncle, you can't…"

"Yes, I can. I brought you all here and I'm responsible with your lives. I don't want you to die in vain. Do you understand, Garon?"

"Aye, aye."

"Good. Now, who volunteers to come with me?"

The first to raise his hand was none other than Tyrion himself:

"Tyrion, I told you…"

"I don't want to hear anything. I'm coming with you. This is my chance to see something marvelous. Don't take it away from me!"

"Ugh… As you wish. Now, is there anyone?"

A large, dark skinned man arose and approached Gerion. It was Zhorgal from the Summer Isles. Another two men from Lannisport, Lynn and Morry, also joined the exploration party. Rodrik Flowers, the White Centaur, also raised his hand. Before anyone could volunteer, Aerea raised her hand:

"I know you said you want only men with you, Lord Gerion, but I will have to disobey that order of yours and join you."

"It's good. We would need a healer with us. Now, lower the boat, we are going to the island! Emmon, if we don't return, you go home, do you understand?"

"But…but…"

"No buts, do you understand?"

"Yes, Gerion."

"Swear me now, on your honor as a knight!"

"I swear…"

"Good."

On the boat, only Aerea and Tyrion wasn't rowing. He felt a bit strange to be left out of this process but he knew physical capabilities weren't his forte. Zhorgal was the strongest of them all so he was the only one who wasn't tired from the group. He was captured by pirates from the Basilisk Isles who sold him into slavery in Volantis. A slave for the last ten years, Zhorgal was happy to be part of something like this, a journey into the unknown and even though he was bought by Gerion, he was very loyal to the Lannister. Since his enslavement, his greatest dream was to cross the narrow sea and live in the Seven Kingdoms for the rest of his life, as there no man was a slave. Tyrion tried to dissuade him, telling him that Westeros is shit compared to what he had seen in Essos but the Summer Islander told him that in Westeros, there are no chains. Tyrion told him that the maesters of the Citadel wore chains but Zhorgal replied to him that the maesters are not slaves but learned men and their chains are a mark of pride. Impressed by the man's knowledge, Tyrion befriended the immense man and was happy to see him exploring the island with him. Another man rowing was Rodrik Flowers, the bastard of Bitterbridge and one of the finest knights of the Reach, who was captured and held prisoner with Tyrion and his uncles during the final part of their journey to Volantis. His father, Lord Benedict Caswell, sired him upon a young seamstress he bedded one night and after she came back to Bitterbridge nine months later with a son in her arms and made a scene right in the front courtyard, Lord Benedict had no choice but to acknowledge the child, who resembled him, as his own, to his wife's vexation. Knowing that Lord Edmond Fossoway, the powerful lord of the House from which his wife hailed, would be offended by the presence of the bastard in the same place as his lawful grandchildren, Lord Caswell chose to send his illegitimate child to be raised and fostered with House Ambrose at Anthill. Growing up with Lord Morton Ambrose's son Arthur, a strong warrior himself, young Rodrik fought bravely during the Greyjoy Rebellion and was knighted for his valor. He then became a sworn sword of the Hightowers and the moment he heard that his fellow bastard Garon Flowers was chosen as the captain of the _Laughing Lion_ , Rodrik decided to join the mission too. The other two, Lynn and Morry, were part of the original crew that left Lannisport.

Finally, after a period of time that seemed like a century for Tyrion, they landed. The first thing Tyrion noticed after leaving the boat that the sand wasn't yellow, but greyish in color.

"How strange. Look at this sand…"

"This is not sand, nephew. This is ash."

Ash… Tyrion looked around and saw that the entire beach was covered in ash.

"So, this is a volcanic island?"

The White Centaur disagreed:

"From the look of it, it doesn't seem to be any mountain here. It's pretty flat. However, I believe that this ash is one of the remnants of the Doom of Valyria. Remember that the legends say that all the volcanos around Valyria erupted at the same time and sundered the peninsula. This ash probably was spewed by one of them."

"But… after so many years?"

Aerea approached Tyrion:

"Lord Tyrion, whenever a great tragedy happens, the scars remain for a long, long time. Come on, let's go further!"

"I agree. People, we split up. Zhorgal, Lynn and Morry, you are our hunters and foragers. Try to find out animals and comestible fruits. Tyrion, Rodrik and Aerea, come with me to that ruined temple. Let's see what's there."

After they split up, Gerion's team arrived near a great temple. Its towers, burned by flame and covered in ash, were tall and imposing. The four explorers entered it and they couldn't believe their eyes what was inside: a large tapestry, showing a great red city and three dragons circling it. Also, on the left wall wall, another city was shown, a yellow one, circled by seven dragons and on the right wall, a white city was circled by three dragons, one black, one green and one yellow.

"Incredible… Absolutely marvelous… I think those cities are Valyria, Tyria and Oros, the three most important cities of the Freehold…"

Aerea approached the larger tapestry, that of the red city:

"Well, the legend says that Valyria was a city made of towers of gold. And this tapestry is clearly the biggest of the three. Why is the city red?"

Gerion laughed:

"Maybe they ran out of yellow dye?"

Aerea frowned:

"I don't think is that simple, Lord Gerion. Is quite strange…"

"Indeed, Aerea. Three dragons on the red city, one black, one yellow and one green, seven on the yellow city, all black, three on the white city, one black, one yellow and one green. I think the dragons from the red city are the same as the dragons from the white city."

Ser Flowers coughed:

"I also noticed something else. Look at the sun in each tapestry. It's setting in the red city, it's rising in the white city, it's in the middle of the sky in the golden city."

"Yes, indeed. What does it mean?"

Gerion sighed:

"I don't know what that means but I know it's a mystery we would have to decipher another time. There are other ruins we need to explore. Come on."

They left the temple, leaving the tapestries there and, after a short walk, they entered another ruined building, this time smaller than the temple but clearly a shrine of sorts. This time, there was only one tapestry, a golden city with red skies and no dragons. The most disturbing aspect of it was the depiction of men and women. On the right side of the city countless small humans were clearly running from the city. On the left side, however, there were just seven people, one larger than the other six, whose faces were black as tar with no features on it. They didn't run, they stood there. Tyrion wondered:

"What is this? It's… the same city as in the other temple. It's the same yellow city!"

Gerion replied:

"Yes, it's the same. Except here the sky is red. And what are those things over there? Men with black faces?"

Aerea gasped:

"More like… men with no faces."

"Men with no faces? What does it mean?"

"I don't know but we should keep exploring. I feel like we are closing in on something."

They left the small temple and, after a longer walk, they arrived at a third temple, almost as large as the first one. Inside, it was nothing, except a small, red stone in the middle of the temple. It looked unlike anything they ever saw in their lives. It was glowing red but its light was a cold one. Tyrion decided to approach it.

"Nephew, are you sure it's safe?"

"No, but… I want to feel it…"

He took the stone in his hand. It felt like he was touching fire itself and before he could throw it away, his eyes closed. Tyrion felt like the entire world was spinning with him, not unlike in Lys, but this time, he wasn't poisoned. He then opened his eyes. His uncle disappeared, the White Centaur disappeared and even the red priestess of R'hllor disappeared. Instead, he was in the middle of a large garden full of flowers of all sorts. In the middle of it, a man and a woman were making love. The passion of their lovemaking resonated inside Tyrion's heart so much that he could feel on his skin every touch, every kiss, every breath.

"Who… are you?"

They didn't respond. Tyrion looked around the garden and saw many statues of dragons and sphinxes and wyverns. Suddenly, he felt the greatest pleasure, more than everything he felt in a brothel combined. He looked towards the two lovers and he could hear everything they were saying. They spoke Valyrian but for some reason, he could understand each word, like it was been spoken in the Common tongue of Westeros.

"You are mine, my love!"

"As you are mine, Aenar Targaryen!"

Tyrion awoke. The name Aenar Targaryen ringed in his ears. He was the father of Daena the Dreamer, the one whose dreams brought House Targaryen to Dragonstone four hundred years ago, saving them from the Doom of Valyria. The stone was now black in his hand and after he looked around, he was horrified: his uncle, Gerion, was lying dead, his armor torn apart by something which seemed like claws. Rodrik Flowers was also dead, his armor being in the same state as his uncle's.

"No! No! Uncle! No!"

He approached his uncle, whose blood was flowing red on the temple's floor.

"No, Uncle, no! Aerea! Aerea! Come here!"

No sign of Aerea. Tyrion realized that his uncle Gerion was dead. He frozen and started to cry:

"Uncle, no! Think about Joy… Think about me! Please… Uncle, please… Aerea, come here!"

Someone approached, a woman, tall and slender, dressed in red.

"Aerea, please… my Uncle!"

Tyrion looked towards Aerea and realized, to his horror, that it wasn't her… It was another woman, wearing her dress. Instead of having her red medallion around her neck, this mysterious lady had another necklace, one made of sapphires and emeralds and her face… was different. More beautiful than Aerea was ever been, even though she was wonderful and also… this woman's eyes. One green, one blue, like the necklace.

"Who… who?"

"It's fine, Lord Tyrion. You are safe."

"Who are you? What did you do to Aerea? My Uncle…"

"Your Uncle died, so did Ser Rodrik. You are alive."

"Who are you? What kind of witchcraft is this? What have you done to the priestess?"

"I'm right here, my lord."

"What…"

The woman was smiling and kneeled alongside Tyrion, touching his cheek:

"You are a smart boy. I'm sure you figured out who I am. You know your history well, Lord Tyrion."

"Oh… It… It can't be!"

"Yes, it can. You see, each of us have a part in this mummer's play we call life. Life is the most precious gift of all, one I swore to protect at all costs."

Tyrion was dumbfounded:

"Tell me… What… happened? Who attacked them?"

"Nobody… It's… just the price you've paid for knowledge."

"That stone… That damnable stone did this?"

"The stone is just a mean to an end, Lord Tyrion. It played its part. It showed you what it had to show you."

"And it had to kill MY UNCLE for this?! And Ser Flowers too?"

"Your uncle was a good man but also, he was fool who suddenly believed he could bring glory to his name and his House by bringing that sword home to Casterly Rock. How many died because of his quest? His improbable and impossible quest?"

"He… he did what he thought was right…"

"Absolutely. I don't judge him for this. And if he wanted that sword so badly, he should have asked for it."

Suddenly, the woman produced a greatsword from her mouth, with a pommel in the shape of a lion with rubies instead of eyes. The ripples on the blade were the proof: it was Valyrian steel.

"How…"

"This journey was not for your uncle and his precious sword, Lord Tyrion. It is for you, your journey. Gerion Lannister wanted to find the sword, but you want to find something else, isn't it?"

"I… What…"

"I know you are said for losing Gerion and your friend, but you need to focus now. We need to reach Valyria! There, we will find the truth."

"Wait! WAIT! What about my uncle? What about the rest of the crew?"

"Your other uncle, Ser Emmon, will mourn his good-brother, so will the crew. But you will convince them that in order to respect his memory and to fulfill the promise he made to your father, you will press forward. Surely, the deaths of Gerion and Rodrik will deliver a great blow to the others' morale but you will need to become the new leader of this expedition. You need to press forward, like I said. Don't worry, I will be there, with you."

"Why would I help you with this deception?"

"Because you are a smart man, and you are kind. You must know that something is coming. Maybe not now, not tomorrow, but someday, something is coming. A threat that will consume this entire world. And we must stop it!"

"We? Who is "we"? Me and you?"

"There are others in this world that share our vision of peace, each having their part to fulfill. One of them is my only remaining brother."

"What? He's… alive?"

"He is. And he has taken interest in a small wolf pup in the North. Myself, however… I'm not that fond of wolves. I like lions more."

"Are you sure there is a threat to the entire world? Isn't it one of your lies?"

"I never lied to you, Lord Tyrion, not once! Since we've met in Volantis, I've been nothing but true to you."

"Really? _Aerea_?"

"You do realize that even the lowliest of the _Lion_ 's crewmen would instantly recognize me if they see my face. I'm sorry, but this disguise was necessary."

Tyrion now realized what was happening. When Aerea and himself were talking about the Great Bastards, it was clearly that she was affected, that she had feelings for those men. And for some strange reason, even with his favorite uncle being dead, he trusted her. Even though the history would contradict him.

After _Aerea_ and Tyrion met the hunting party, they told them that a tiger was hidden into one of the temples and that Gerion and Rodrik were mauled by it. Inside, Zhorgal, Lynn and Morry discovered the two dead men and a dead tiger with burn marks. _Aerea_ told them how she used her fire magic to kill the animal but it was too late to protect the two warriors. The three sailors, clearly shocked and saddened, carried Gerion and Rodrik back to the boat. Tyrion felt miserably having to lie but it was necessary. The woman was clearly a powerful entity, creating the image of a dead tiger using just blood and magic. Also, she turned Brightroar into a small Valyrian dagger that she gave to Tyrion. She said that only a drop of his blood was necessary to turn it back into its sword form. Arriving on the ship, Tyrion had to convince the crew and Ser Emmon, who was devastated, almost all the night to continue towards Valyria, even though he was now sure that he would lead them to their deaths. They agreed to fight for the honor of Gerion Lannister and bring the sword back to Westeros. _Aerea_ , who now reassumed her former image, approached Tyrion in his cabin:

"I know it's difficult, but you are doing the right thing. The only right thing you can possibly do."

"I swear to you, if anything you said to me was a lie, I will kill you with that sword you gave me."

"I know and I can respect that, but all it's true. The answers we seek will save this world, I know!"

"Maybe… Or maybe this is just an illusion, a glamor or something. Blood magic!"

"I can assure you it isn't. Tell me, Lord Tyrion, do you trust me?"

"I… I trust you, until proven otherwise."

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion."

"Please, call me Tyrion…"

"Only if you call me by my name, my real name, only once!"

"Of course… Shiera!"


	13. Seastar

The crew of the _Lion_ named the island where Gerion Lannister and Rodrik Flowers lost their lives the Isle of Ashes. Emmon Frey, now the new expedition leader, stood on the bed of his cabin, thinking. He cried, now he stopped. He was afraid for his life, as he imagined that if Gerion, which was one of the finest warriors of his time, could be killed so easily, he wouldn't stand a chance. Also, he regretted Rodrik Flowers' death too. Emmon remembered how the bastard won a tourney at the Twins, defeating several Freys in the lists and eventually unhorsing Barristan Selmy himself in the final. Such a strong warrior yet mauled to death by a tiger. Tyrion entered his remaining uncle's cabin:

"Emm, are you asleep?"

"No, nephew, I'm… I was just thinking."

"About what happened?"

"Yes… And I was thinking about home. I really want to see Genna and my sons again, you know? Even though I was terribly unhappy there, they are my family. They are part of my life, part of me. I just don't want to die here. I want to go home, to see them one more time."

"I know… I'm sorry I dragged you into this. It was me that convinced you to join us."

"I don't regret anything, Tyrion. I am glad that I joined you and Gerion but I can't help it… I want to be alive after this."

"So do I, Emm…"

"So, your uncle and Ser Rodrik will be returned to Westeros if we manage to return, of course. They are currently stored into rum caskets with a mixture created by one of the Volantene crew members. He said that they would be perfectly preserved for at least three months before… you know…"

"Decaying. Say it as it is. I don't know if we'll manage to return home in three months… It's been almost a year since we left and we still need to reach Valyria…"

"Damned sword. So many sacrifices for that piece of metal. You know, after I ended the lives of those mutineers in Volantis, I thought I did the right thing. But know, seeing Gerion who was younger, stronger and healthier than me dying… makes me wonder if that isn't my punishment for killing those men. To see everyone I care about dying before fate ends me too."

"I carry the same burden you carry, Emm. When that… animal attacked us, Gerion and Rodrik protected me with their lives, even though I am a murderer. He told the red priestess to defend me and she shielded me until… they…"

Tyrion's heart was broken that he had to lie to Emmon but if his uncle knew Gerion died a hero, it would be easier for him.

"It's alright, nephew. Nobody is accusing you of anything. We all know this could be a one-way trip. Come here!"

Emmon hugged Tyrion. The dwarf needed that, a reassurance that everything will be fine even though he knew that this was false. After a few more moments spent with him, Tyrion went straight for Aerea's cabin.

"May I come in?"

"Sure, Tyrion!"

"Lady Shiera, I wanted to talk to you."

"Of course, but close the door. I don't want anyone to hear you calling me Shiera."

Tyrion closed the door and approached the sorceress.

"I have several questions for you, if you would be so kind to answer."

"Of course, ask away!"

Tyrion sat on a chair, near Aegon the Fourth's daughter. It was incredibly strange for him to speak with someone that lived more than one hundred years ago yet looks like twenty or so. Shiera modify her glamour so that only Tyrion may see her like she really was. For the others on the _Lion_ , she was Aerea, priestess of R'hllor.

"How was life during your… youth? Past?"

"Well, I suppose a word for it doesn't exist, isn't it, Tyrion? What do you wish to know?"

"Everything… I… I read many books about the Targaryens… The Dance of Dragons, the Blackfyre Rebellions…"

"Seems you developed quite the obsession with those with dragon blood in their veins. Well in order to understand how our lives were back then, you must know my origin first. My mother was a noblewoman from Lys, Lady Serenei, considered one of the most beautiful women in the world. Her family was one of the oldest Valyrian houses in the city but because of the large amount of money they owed to the Iron Bank of Braavos, they became poor. Nobody in the Free Cities wished to help them so my mother's father wrote a letter to the King of Westeros: in exchange for the money to pay the debt to the Iron Bank, he would donate every arcane tome that existed in the family library to the Citadel of Oldtown and he would give his daughter to be married to Aegon's grandson, prince Baelor, when he would come of age. Aegon was intrigued so he sent his Hand at that time, Jon Hightower, to Lys in order to negotiate. He took the tomes and my mother to Westeros and gave my grandfather five hundred thousand gold dragons to pay his debts. However, when the Hand and my mother arrived to King's Landing, Aegon broke his promise to marry her to prince Baelor. Instead, he took her in his own bed, as his lover. Serenei impressed the courtiers of the Red Keep with her beauty and intelligence but she was also cold and arrogant. At least, that's what the others told me. I never met her as she died giving birth to me."

Tyrion always sympathized with those who lost their mothers at birth. His mother, Lady Joanna, died giving birth to him and his father would always hate him for this. He continued to listen to Shiera's story:

"I was born in the 180th year since Aegon's Landing. When my father died four years later, my trueborn half-brother Daeron, who was named by the men _The Good_ became king and summoned all the other Great Bastards to the court. It was the moment I would meet the two most important men in my life… Aegor and Brynden, the Bittersteel and the Bloodraven. Aegor was twelve and Brynden was nine and even then, even as children, they hated each other. I remember when I was fourteen, I summoned both of them to my chambers and told them that I would give my maidenhead to the one who would bring me the most beautiful gift."

"You did this?"

"I was a foolish girl then… Convinced that I could get whatever I want just by spreading my legs… Aegor rode north while Brynden rode south. I knew nothing of them for three months until they both returned the same day to King's Landing, each bearing gifts."

"What did they bring to you?"

"Aegor brought me this necklace…"

Shiera pointed to her sapphires and emeralds necklace, a one of a kind piece of jewelry.

"…while Brynden went to the Citadel and bought back all of mother's spell books."

"So, who did you chose to… deflower you?"

"I chose Brynden… The necklace was beautiful but… Brynden brought me something else, something more valuable that a pretty jewel…"

"What?"

"Independence, Tyrion."

"Independence?"

"With my mother's books, I learned a great deal of things: foreign languages, arcane secrets, cures for diseases, even a way to bend others to my will… Until I had those books, I was Lady Shiera, the pretty bastard of the late king but then, after I learned their secrets, I became Shiera Seastar, the sorcerer, the harlot who plays with men like a child plays with his wooden soldiers, the abominable witch that made the most powerful lords of Westeros forsake their holy matrimonial vows and spurn their wives just to touch her once. With Brynden's help, I obtained power."

Tyrion was speechless.

"Of course, originally, I felt just gratitude for him, soon after, that gratitude turned into love… He was smart, he was passionate. Of course, he had to create his _A thousand eyes and one_ persona but with me… he could be his true self. For the others in the Seven Kingdoms, he was the Bloodraven, the bastard kinslayer who ruled with spies and sorcery but for me, he was Brynden… my brother, my lover, my confidante. The only man that ever understood me, even though I cheated on him almost every day. He understood when I fucked that young Uller Kingsguard, he understood when I fucked the Red Keep's master-at-arms and he also understood when I fucked that lowborn fisherman and his daughters too. I was wild back then."

Tyrion smiled. Wild is a gross understatement. He had his share of wild women in his life but to talk with probably the woman with the greatest sexual appetite in the history of the known world… It was too much. Yet, he couldn't help but be drawn to her. For a moment, he forgot his uncle was dead.

"And… what made you go to Volantis and become a priestess?"

"Tell me, Lord Tyrion. What happens when even the most beautiful woman in the world loses everything in her life that she held dear? In the 223rd year since Aegon's landing, our… beloved nephew Maekar died and his son Aegon would become king in his stead. He was made king because of my brother's intervention in that council. Then, to secure Aegon's claim, Brynden killed that damned Blackfyre whelp and what did Aegon do? He imprisoned him! Called him a traitor and a man without honor. For protecting his king! And then… Brynden was sent to the Wall and I decided to leave Westeros… I was 53 at that time, my beauty started to leave me… I felt lost without Brynden… I sailed to Lys and I found my mother's ancestral home in ruins, abandoned for years. I decided to become a whore."

"What? Lady Shiera…"

"Yes. Who wouldn't want to fuck the daughter of a king, even an old one? Men from the Seven Kingdoms, from Essos, Dothraki, even hairy men from Ibben… I took all of them to my bed. I took a new name and I became famous across the world. But it gave me nothing… They weren't Brynden… So, I close the brothel and went straight to Volantis, hoping that a perverted Triarch would take me as one of his many concubines. But there, something else happened. I discovered something that changed my perception about life and about this world we live in. It was 242, I think… Oh, those maesters surely have strange measurements of time."

Tyrion frowned. The year 242 was the year his father Tywin was born. It was incredible for him to talk with someone who by the time Tywin was just a newborn babe, was already 62.

"And what was your… new name?"

"Irogenia."

"What?"

Tyrion couldn't believe it. Irogenia of Lys was probably the most famous courtesan in the history of the world. She was described as being young and full of life yet Shiera claimed she was in her sixties when she was Irogenia.

"Irogenia was simply everything a man wished for. It was magic. A man entered her house of pleasure and respite and there, he got what he wished for. If he wanted a young maid, Irogenia would be a young maid for them. If he wanted a fat old crone, Irogenia would be a fat old crone."

"So, you used magic to appear exactly like a man's greatest desire?"

"Maybe…"

"So… you said something happened in 242. What happened?"

"In 242, I received a letter from Brynden. He became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch in '39 and went in a ranging beyond the Wall that lasted almost a year. He told me that something evil was there that would eventually bring an end to all. If it were a letter from another, I would have burned it and call the man a fool and insane. But I knew Brynden. I knew how much he valued peace and balance. I had to help him. Finally, I had a purpose. Brynden instructed me to infiltrate the Temple of R'hllor in Volantis, in order to learn their secrets, especially those involving resurrection of the dead and the manipulation of souls. So, I created the persona of Aerea, an old crone from Braavos who had a vision of the Lord of Light that directed her to Volantis. I was quickly accepted as a novice and, after three years with them, I finally became a priestess. But then, the High Priest of the time, a man named Alarro Red-Mane, called me to his office in the northernmost tower of the Temple and asked me bluntly: Are you Shiera Seastar? I froze. I thought he would kill me but he said: I know why you are here. You are here to fight evil. To fight the minions of the Great Other. So, I give you this gift."

"What gift?"

"My youth… He gave me my youth. A body untouched by want, by need, by disease… by death… I was Shiera Seastar once again but, at the same time, I wasn't. I was now Aerea. Giving me those powers, the Red-Mane died. Since then, I travelled all across Essos hoping that I would find a way to stop that threat Brynden spoke of. When I heard he disappeared, I thought my world ended but he contacted me somehow, told me that he had to take the fight directly to the source of evil… We speak frequently, though not as often as I would like."

"How?"

"There is power in king's blood, like there is power in First Men blood. My brother has both, though my blood is more of a… purer Valyrian nature."

If someone would have told Tyrion he would take part to such discussions, he would have called that man mad and a fool. But now, the young Lannister is speaking to one of the most famous Targaryen in the history. The thought she would share her knowledge with him enticed him tremendously.

"So… now what?"

"We sail forward. We will reach Valyria soon."

After a few more minutes of discussion, one of the crewmen of the _Lion_ who was in the crow's nest at the time started to shout:

"Land ahoy!"

Tyrion and Aerea left the cabin and went straight for the upper deck, so was Emmon Frey and captain Flowers. Tyrion took his late uncle's far-eye and looked forward. Even though the mist was thick, he was able to spot something... towers, enourmous towers, ruined by fire, black as night yet so visible! Tyrion was unable to utter but one word:

"Valyria..."


	14. The Shriek of the Falcon

It seemed like a dream... A strange dream brought by milk of the poppy or other substances used by the maesters to induct them in men. But it was real. Tyrion knew it was real. As the ship approached the great city in front of them, his hand started to shake, not because of fear but because of the fact that he remembered a book he read when he was eleven, a book about the dragonlords of the Old Valyria which described the city and its society. Tyrion never would have dreamed at age eleven that only a few years later, he will walk among the ruins of the greatest empire the world has ever known. The problem that arose in his mind now was what he would do once he will reach the city? The only reason this expedition was put together was to recover Brightroar, the ancestral sword of the Lannisters that was lost by King Tommen but with it being in possession of the Targaryen lady who posed as Aerea, why would he risk the life of Ser Emmon and the crew? Tyrion's thoughts were interrupted by Garon Flowers and his remaining eye, which was so wet that seemed to glow in the mist.

"My lord, we approach our destination. What are we going to do now?"

"My uncle Emmon is now the expedition's leader. Ask him."

"He may be, but the sword is of Lannister, not Frey. You, as the only remaining Lannister on the ship, have the right to decide our course of action!"

Again the damned sword. Tyrion wanted so much to tell the captain to turn the ship back to Westeros, as the sword is in their possession already by some magic done by Aerea which wasn't Aerea but a dragon ghost from the past. But something in him wanted to push forward, to go to a place that nobody else visited or even saw in more than four hundred years. And it was so close...

"I'm afraid I can't say for sure... I'm not an experienced sailor. In fact, this is the first time I sail on a ship. So, an advice, please?"

"Well, I suppose we find a safe place to land, but we know nothing of the terrain nor if there are any hostile people squatting in the ruined city. It's a gamble but, by the Red God, this whole fucking journey is a gamble. Ugh, damned city... We'll approach the coast, lower the anchor and then send a scouting party by boat on shore, just as we did on that ashen island. If it's safe, they will signal us with torches. If it's not then... we'll try to turn the ship back."

"I agree."

As the _Laughing Lion_ approached the shore more and more, Aerea joined Tyrion on the upper deck, as did Emmon Frey.

"It is said that any sailor who lays his eyes on the coast of Valyria is swallowed by the Doom. I suppose that is false, as we are all seeing it with our very eyes and we are safe!"

"For now!"

"Always the optimist, aren't you, Emm?"

"I'm here, am I not? Right now it's not a question of pessimism or optimism. Right now, I must find a way not to shit my breeches!"

"Trust in the Lord of Light, Ser Emmon. He protects us, even here in this doomed place!"

Emmon Frey frowned and retorted:

"Oh, yes? Then where was your Lord when that animal killed both my good-brother and Ser Rodrik? Tell me!"

"It doesn't work that way, Ser Emmon. The Lord of Light protects those whom he deems are worthy of his protection!"

"And how your Lord judges those who are worthy of his protection? Measuring their cocks? Because if he measures their cocks, I'm doomed already!"

Tyrion was sad seeing his uncle's outburst. It was more painful knowing that Emmon was right. Aerea wanted to give Emmon a reply but he left the deck, returning to his cabin. Tyrion wanted to go after him, to comfort him, but he knew that nothing he would say to him right now won't matter. Emmon was afraid, so was many of the _Lion_ 's crewmen. The dwarf approached Aerea:

"My lady, may I have a word with you?"

"Of course, Lord Tyrion!"

The two excused themselves to the captain and went to the lower deck. Garon Flowers ordered the man in the crow's nest to descend and have another take his place. Below, Aerea and Tyrion talked:

"What happened?"

"Excuse my uncle... He is quite nervous, you know?"

"There is nothing to be excused, Tyrion. I understand him perfectly."

"Also..."

"Yes?"

"I had strange dreams these past few days. In fact, they are becoming stranger and stranger as we approach Valyria."

"Tell me!"

"Well, I dreamed a falcon... A large, proud falcon who was drowned into water by a fish... a trout I think it was... It flew right over the water and that damned fish jumped and with its mouth, took the falcon underwater. How strange is that?"

"Very."

"Also, I dreamed another falcon, smaller... Quite sick, you know? Featherless, just... sitting there in its nest on a high cliff and then another bird came and hurt it. I think it was a mockingbird."

Aerea listened to Tyrion who continued to speak:

"Last night, I dreamed about that little falcon again. This time, a wolf ate it. Can you imagine that? It was on the ground, trembling, shaking and that wolf came and just... ate it. And do you know the strangest part of it? That damned mockingbird was sitting on the back of the wolf."

"Very interesting. I can't really say for sure what this means, Tyrion, but certainly these are no normal dreams. I think they are premonitions. Something that happened or is going to happen."

"Premonitions? With animals?"

"Well, they can take many forms, you know? Some are seeing them in water, others in the stars, others see them like animals. You may be one of the latter."

"But why me? Why not you, Lady Shiera?"

"Eh... That's a gift I can do without. My life is complicated as it is, I don't need another complication. But these dreams of yours... they intrigue me. Come to my cabin. I want to do a ritual in which you must take part. Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit."

"Fine. I suppose we have time until we reach the city."

They reached Shiera's cabin. She sat on a chair while inviting Tyrion on the bed:

"Please, make yourself comfortable!"

Tyrion's mind started to concoct some dirty thoughts after hearing Shiera's invitation. He bedded many women in his still very young life but none of them had the same allure as Shiera Seastar, the she-dragon who was said to once make a lord from the Reach murder his wife and sons in their sleep just to have her for one night. The Lannister knew that the Red Priestesses were highly promiscuous, bedding both men and women with the same passion and aplomb. However, before he could conjure another dirty fantasy, Shiera spoke:

"I know what you're thinking about, Tyrion. You want to fuck me, right?"

The bluntness of the question took the dwarf by surprise. Did she just read his thoughts? Is that a power of the Red Priests? He wasn't confortable having his thoughts invaded by somebody else.

"Ugh... well, no..."

"Please. I would be offended if you wouldn't want to fuck me. You know, long ago, when I was still at King's Landing and my brother was Hand of the King, our master of ships, Lord Hubert Redwyne, brought his daughter to court. She was seventeen and looked like she was the Maid incarnate. She said to us at a banquet that she wanted to be taken by the Faith and become a septa. That night, I waged with Brynden that she'll be in my bed by the end of the month. If I lost, I would have married him. But if I won, he couldn't ask my hand in marriage for a year. So, I invited her in my room one evening, pretending I would show her religious books, written by the greatest septons in the history. By midnight, she was in my bed, legs spread and I... well, I was pleasuring her, giving her something her body craved but her mind refused to acknowledge. Of course, I arranged for both Brynden and Lord Hubert to catch us in the act, just to spite both of them. Lord Hubert was livid and almost died of shock but Brynden was just angry that he lost. Shame Lord Hubert renounced his position as master of ships and returned to the Arbor with his daughter, spewing insults towards me all the way down Aegon's Hill! I would've wanted her to remain longer at court. Of course, it caused a small diplomatic incident but her cunt was so worth it!"

Shiera's unapologetic story made Tyrion uncomfortable and also ignited in him a mad passion. His cock was hard as a rock. He wanted to hear more about Shiera's debauched past but she just ended her story:

"But I've said enough... Right now, you need to focus on those dreams, not your fantasies with me!"

"Pretty hard to do it... you know?"

"Speaking about hard..."

Shiera got up from the chair and, after reverting to her real form, she pulled down Tyrion's breeches, revealing his hardened cock. Tyrion was surprised but happy at the same time. He had the opportunity to bed the most wanted woman in the history, even though she was more than one hundred years old. She looked young, her tits were firm and only that matter for the young lion. Shiera Seastar also removed his shirt, leaving him naked in her bed. She looked in his eyes and that made his cock even harder, if that was anatomically possible. Her eyes, one blue and one green, were something magical, otherworldly. Before he had the chance to touch her, he felt his seed leaving his body, spewing all over his belly. The she-dragon put one of her fingers on it and then licked it.

"Well, I've had dragon, wolf... even merman. But nothing tastes better than lion."

It was incredible, and extremely embarrassing. Tyrion's face was red as fire.

"You know, it was said that Irogenia of Lys could finish a man using only her eyes. Old habits die hard, Tyrion. Now that I solved your... problem, let's get to the task at hand. But first, please, clean yourself."

He took a rag from a drawer and cleaned himself before trying to put his breeches on. He was interrupted by Shiera:

"I said clean yourself, not dress yourself!"

He returned to the bed.

"Now, lie still and close your eyes. And please, no dirty thoughts. Actually, if I see that cock of yours rising only an inch, I swear by the everlasting light of R'hllor that I will enchant it so that it would never rise again!"

Tyrion gulped before closing his eyes.

"Think about what you've dreamed. The falcon, the small falcon. Think about the mockingbird and the wolf."

The images of the animals returned to the Lannister's mind as the priestess put her hand on his forehead. Shiera said:

"Ah... I see it. The small falcon... he trusts the mockingbird. He likes the mockingbird's songs. He believes they confort him, give him peace... but the mockingbird's songs are poison for him. And the wolf... the wolf is telling the little falcon a story... the wolf now bites the falcon... The little falcon cries, but nobody hears his screams, only me! Only I can hear his cries... He says a name... Alayne! Alayne! Alayne! Father! Mother! Alayne! Agh! The pain..."

Shiera took her hand from Tyrion's head. She then went straight for a goblet and drank all the wine in it. Tyrion went to her:

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but that little bird's pain... I need to see more! Please, return to the bed, concentrate yourself!"

Tyrion obeyed Shiera, not only because he was afraid for his cock but because he needed to find an answer for those strange dreams. Aegon the Fourth's bastard put again her hand on his forehead.

"I see it again... Little falcon, tell me... Your shriek deafens me... I can't hear your words. Little falcon... Ah! Tell me... Alayne! Who is Alayne? Crow... Crow! Crow! A crow circles you, little falcon? No, no! Wolf, get off him! Agh!"

She fell down, sweating. Tyrion got down from the bed, approaching her again:

"Lady Shiera, are you alright? Let's end this, it takes a great toll on you."

"No... go back to bed! It's just... the ritual requires a great amount of energy from my part. Trust me, Tyrion!"

He returned to bed. Tyrion was worried about Shiera's condition. She was clearily disturbed.

"Tyrion, I will give you a potion. It will put you to sleep for about an hour. It will not have side effects. I need to see more. I think I might have found something!"

Tyrion was unsure if he wanted to take the potion or not, as he remembered how he nearly died from poisoning in Lys, but he trusted Shiera. He nodded.

"Good."

As she was searching for the potion, he dressed himself. It was quite cold in the cabin. She returned quickly:

"Drink it and lay on the bed."

He drank the potion, which tasted like wine, only it was far sourer. He immediately fell asleep, as Shiera put her hand on his forehead again. She closed her eyes.

"Ah... Small falcon, sweet, small falcon! Alayne... Who is Alayne? Wolf, stay away from him! Don't eat him! What are you saying, dearest bird? Crow? Crow? Where is the crow? Is the crow helping you? The crow is helping you! Little falcon... The pain!"

Shiera fell on the ground, covering her head with her hands.

"The pain!"

She then put her hand on her belly, feeling it aflame, an immense pain growing inside it. As she opened her eyes, she saw a large, auburn wolf in the cabin, with a mockingbird on its back.

"Fucking wolf... fucking mockingbird... Leave the falcon alone!"

Suddenly, she felt another presence. A crow, perched on her shoulder, with one eye red and the other black. The wolf and the mockingbird disappeared.

"Ah... it's you! What... what happened? The falcon! Protect the falcon! Ah... little bird..."

The crow then circled Tyrion in its flight. Shiera returned near the bed, touching Tyrion again:

"Agh... Another falcon... the fish drowned you... Such bloodshed... So much blood. Agh!"

She fell down, passing out near Tyrion's bed.

The dwarf woke up later, his head spinning. He saw Shiera unconscious on the floor.

"Shiera! Lady Shiera!"

Her eyes slowly opened, those beautiful blue and green gems that made Tyrion spill his seed earlier.

"I'm fine..."

"What did you see?"

"Pain... and blood. The proud falcon died... Much bloodshed came after. Dead animals... Dead wolves, dead deers, dead fishes... Dead lions!"

The last words sent shivers down Tyrion's spine. Shiera got up from the floor and changed her appearance back into Aerea as a sailor was just about to enter the cabin:

"Milord, milady... We've arrived!"

Tyrion thought:

 _Valyria... We've reached it!_


End file.
